


Under Neon Skies

by mongoose_bite



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universes, Blade of Marmora!Keith, Canonverse AU, Champion!Shiro, First Kiss, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Season 2 Continuation, Sheith Big Bang, double sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: After the battle with Zarkon Shiro finds himself in an alien city, on an alien planet. Here Zarkon rules triumphant, the Black Lion tame under his hand, and Shiro's own face appears on glowing billboards fifty feet high to advertise the arena fights as their reigning champion.Shiro knows he has to get home because his universe needs him, but this universe just might need him more. He pins his hopes on the Blade of Marmora and learns that in this reality, Keith did not grow up on Earth...Written for the Sheith Big Bang 2017. Not season 3 compliant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Sheith Big Bang 2017. It was written before season three came out, and thus isn't canon compliant beyond season two. (Although it is weirdly prescient in a couple of small ways.)
> 
> A big thank you to [shulkie](http://perksofbeingawaifu.tumblr.com/) for betaing this work; she made it better, take my word for it. Any mistakes are entirely mine. 
> 
> **Art Links:** [dent-de-leon](http://dent-de-leon.tumblr.com/)'s art is [here.](http://dent-de-leon.tumblr.com/post/164226694661/broke-it-into-two-parts-but-heres-my-thing-for)
> 
> [shirokurocat's](http://unstoppable-setsuna-f-seiei.tumblr.com/) art is [here](http://unstoppable-setsuna-f-seiei.tumblr.com/post/164279222381/art-for-under-neon-skies-part-of-the-2017-sheith) and [here.](http://unstoppable-setsuna-f-seiei.tumblr.com/post/167177622186/at-long-last-my-second-piece-of-art-for-under)
> 
> They are both _amazing_ please check them out.

 

Shiro was sure he was looking at a galaxy, or a gas field. Great swirls of glowing purple stretched across his field of vision, folded in on themselves in random, meaningless shapes. He stared blankly at it for a while and realised he had to be moving very fast, for although the neon clouds weren’t moving, when he focused right he could see tiny chunks of rock, or ice, or star matter, sailing past him as he hurtled forward. He felt nothing other than a kind of heaviness, no pain, but he sensed once he remembered what he was meant to be doing he'd have a lot to worry about.

A childish urge for five more minutes of peace washed over him. He felt very tired; his limbs were heavy, and it didn't look like he was going anywhere in particular. Why not rest a bit longer?

Splat! One of the chunks of ice landed on his faceplate, and the universe shifted around him as everything fell into perspective. He wasn't looking at space, he was looking at a sky. The heaviness he felt was simply the forces of gravity holding him to a surface.

He hadn't recognised the rain. It had been so long since he’d seen any.

More spots appeared on his faceplate and as he raised his arm to wipe them away he realised he was lying flat on the ground. Neither ground, rain, nor the bizarre neon sky made much sense. He was meant to be in the middle of a fight-

He sat up abruptly and regretted it, his head spinning for a moment. Where was he? Where was the Black Lion? He took deep breaths, waiting for his head to settle, and tried to establish a link to the Black Lion.

Nothing.

But he wasn't really good at calling his lion from a distance, not like Keith. He looked about him for some clue as to where he was, rain plunking down on his helmet.

He was in a narrow passageway, buildings soaring up on either side. Alien architecture certainly, but he hardly expected to be back on Earth anyway. Not with a sky like that. Even if, just for a moment, the realisation that it had been _rain_ had sent a stab of homesickness through him.

Time enough for that later. The buildings were grey and shiny where they were wet, smooth with red exterior lights above doors. They weren't keen on windows here, although that didn’t mean he was going assume he wasn’t observed.

The alleyway was littered with garbage. Broken electronics, unfamiliar packaging, and utterly unrecognisable bits of foodstuffs were piled up against some of the walls, catching the rain, and a faint mist clung to the ground around his ankles. He decided to keep his helmet on for now; it looked like the atmosphere here was perfectly breathable, but he bet it wouldn't smell very pleasant.

The alley curved off in both directions, no indication as to where it led. Where in the galaxy was he?

He tried his intercom next.

“Keith? Pidge? Can anyone hear me? This is Shiro. I'm.” He shrugged helplessly. “Somewhere else.”

He waited for a response, his heart sinking before he tried again. “Coran, this is Shiro. Can you hear me? Anyone? Can anyone hear me?”

A door hissed open behind him and Shiro turned as a scowling galra leaned out. “Yeah, I can hear you,” she barked. “Now shut up!”

“Hey! Can you tell me where-” Shiro was cut off as she closed the door again. “Quiznak,” he muttered.

It looked like it was just him for now, but he kept his comm open. He gave a quick description of the area, hopefully for a later report. Both directions looked functionally identical, so he picked one and started walking. Gravity was slightly below earth-normal, just enough to give him a spring in his step inappropriate for his mood.

“The last thing I remember.” He stopped. Please let everyone be okay, he thought. “The last thing I remember,” he continued, keeping his voice steady. “I had acquired the black bayard and we were attacking Zarkon.” The rest was gone; a black hole in his memory that felt like true unconsciousness rather than the uneasy seething mass of repressed and suppressed memories of his time spent as Zarkon's prisoner. He didn't think too much time had passed since the battle as he wasn't very hungry and seemed in exactly the same physical condition as he remembered.

He was just tired, but he was tired a whole lot recently. They hadn't been getting a lot of rest in the lead-up to their attack on Zarkon.

“If I'm being honest,” he continued, because talking made him feel a bit better about things. “This looks like galra architecture to me. And the woman who yelled at me earlier was definitely galra. And I-”

He stopped dead as he came to the end of the passage, and stepped out onto a proper street.

“Oh,” he said softly.

The street was very busy; vehicles of many kinds stopped and started to sets of glowing lights, and beside them thronged an alien crowd that was about half galra. At least he didn’t stand out too much, he thought. He wasn't the only one wearing a helmet; there were a few species who presumably couldn’t breath the atmosphere.

All of this he sort of noticed as an aside; he was too busy craning his neck up to stare. The city did not just stretch out along the ground, it had reached up to embrace a great spear of planet-matter that soared up into what had to be an orbital height above the surface, great columns stretched up to plant themselves against its under-surface. He couldn't tell if they were holding it in place or merely accessing it but the engineering involved made his head spin. The glowing purple clouds swirled between it and the surface, but Shiro could catch glimpses of more steely buildings spiking out of this dizzying topography, needling the sky like vast sea urchins.

The city was too big for the planet. Could you even call this construction a planet? He wondered how far out the atmosphere extended.

Shiro looked away; it was starting to make his head spin. As long as he didn’t look up, the street reminded him a bit of Tokyo. The crowds were the same, the stop-start rhythm of the lights, and on every building vast swathes of glowing screens advertised all sorts of consumer goods.

The others had told Shiro about the space mall, but he’d had a hard time really believing in it until now. They’d kept mostly to the far-flung areas of space, helping those who most needed it; planets on the edge of destruction, cut off from a wider galaxy that had adapted to ten thousand years of galra rule.

Shiro kept his helmet on and decided against accosting a local until he had no other choice. It would be all too easy for the galra to recapture him here. He needed to get a message to the others, somehow.

First on his list was finding out more information about where he was. Surely, he thought, a city like this would have tourist information although he realised he probably couldn't read it.

One thing at a time, Shiro. Be patient and focus, he told himself.

He started walking, joining the crowds that thronged in and out of the shops and along the pavement. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was as there were no shadows under that glowing sky and no chance of glimpsing stars or sun through the clouds, but Shiro had the feeling the day-night cycle was irrelevant here; the lights stayed on all the time. It gave everything the twilight feel of early evening. The rain neither slackened nor grew heavier, but remained a sort of hot drizzle that rendered smooth surfaces slick, and kept everyone moving swiftly to get out of it. The faceplate on Shiro’s helmet kept fogging up, and eventually he raised it.

The temperature was warmer than Shiro had expected, and the damp air smelled of hot metal and plastic, exhaust and frying food, damp clothes and inhuman bodies. The latter put him in mind of the slave pens they’d kept him in when he’d first been captured, and he tilted his head back to let the hot rain land on his face and keep him in the present.

He spotted a vast screen overlooking a busy intersection showing what appeared to be news, and he joined the small throng of aliens watching it despite the rain and let the flow of commodity prices wash over him. There was a brief break for some advertisements, and then he narrowed his eyes as an image of Zarkon appeared.

A comforting voice-over reminded everyone that, “A strong Empire is a strong galaxy.”

The image changed to Zarkon again, but this time it pulled back, revealing him to be standing in the mouth of the Black Lion.

“What the?” Shiro muttered.

Zarkon climbed into the cockpit and the scene changed to a series of images of the Black Lion soaring across various coloured skies.

“Within the Empire, we are all protected by the Black Lion. Vrepit Sa.” The voice had an alien lilt, but was nevertheless warm and comforting. “And now, the weather.”

At this point, Shiro had assumed that Zarkon’s propaganda arm had a very vivid imagination, but as the screen showed an animation of the planet he was standing on, complete with little arrows to indicate weather systems, he realised just how wrong he was.

He’d seen this planet before. Or rather, he’d seen its image in the mind’s eye of the Black Lion. The vast slabs of matter in the sky above were the shattered edges of the original galra homeworld, before whatever had smashed into it had reshaped it utterly, like a baseball through a water balloon. Gone however was the sterile red surface, and in its place was the city beneath its swirling purple shrouds of cloud.

“The northern hemisphere continues to experience high temperatures and low-lying clouds, with some rainfall generated by these equatorial weather systems. Global temperatures will remain within tolerable limits for ninety-seven percent of sentient lifeforms. Remember, Marmora’s weather system is engineered to provide for all of us; your patience during these uncomfortable conditions is appreciated.”

Marmora. He was here for real.

The Black Lion’s memories were ten thousand years old; maybe the galra recolonised their broken planet in the meantime and stitched it back together to create something Shiro had to admit was awe-inspiring.

Then what was the deal with the Black Lion? Everyone they’d spoken to had talked of Voltron as an ancient myth, not something that appeared every night on television. Just where was he? Or maybe the question was _when_ was he? What if they’d lost the fight against Zarkon, and he’d been sent to the distant future?

It sounded pretty outlandish but Shiro had learned during his time in space not to discount anything as too unlikely. He flew a giant robot lion that sometimes grew wings, after all.

He frowned at the ground, wondering what he should do next.

“Do you have what it takes?” the screen above him asked, and Shiro snapped his head up at the sound, not of translated alien tones, but his _own voice_.

“The greatest warriors and worst criminals in the galaxy are accepting all comers in the greatest challenge of _your_ life. Join us in the arena! Or watch the spectacle live all day every day across the Empire. Vrepit Sa!”

Shiro’s jaw sagged as he stared up into his own face, lit large across the glowing screen. His own face, but his hair was almost entirely white, save for a couple of black streaks, and long enough to be pulled up in a ponytail. He looked older, his face thinner and harsher, and Shiro could see a scar on his neck above the collar of his outfit, and several more on his arms. As he gestured, Shiro realised his prosthetic was different too; his arm ended in an armoured gauntlet with talons, purple light leaking from the joints as it flexed.

Sendak had claimed he’d gotten the upgraded version, but Shiro suspected this one was upgraded even further. This Shiro vanished, replaced by an alien girl telling everyone how much she loved space travel insurance, and Shiro reeled away to think.

Please let this be a nightmare, he thought, his stomach churning. His skin felt clammy, and it wasn't just because of the humidity and heat. He pushed his way unseeing through the crowd, his legs shaky.

Keep it together; he couldn't afford to panic or freeze up now, even as he felt bile rising in his throat. That wasn't him up there; it couldn't be. He found a wall, and slumped against it, trying to breathe. What if Slav's babble about alternate universes wasn't as hypothetical as he'd thought?

Shiro put his back to the wall, and stared at the crowd. If Ulaz hadn't rescued him—he'd refused to think about it until now, but he supposed what he'd seen on the screen was the future that awaited him if he'd survived. Would he really be that enthusiastic, though? His lip curled in disgust at the thought, the other Shiro’s ‘Vrepit Sa!’ echoing in his head.

He needed to go home. He didn't know how he got here in the first place, but the Black Lion probably had something to do with it. Zarkon had the Black Lion and if Shiro wanted it back he knew he'd need some help.

He looked at his prosthetic. In this universe Ulaz hadn't rescued him, but he still had the coordinates of their communications base in his arm. Assuming, of course, the Blade of Marmora existed at all in this universe. If it didn't he was well and truly screwed, but one thing at a time, he reminded himself. Patience yields focus. The mantra was not really working for him right then.

“Fuck,” he hissed, because Quiznak wasn't really going to cut it either; he wasn't sure he'd ever felt so alone. Even when he’d been captured by the galra there had been the knowledge that many were sharing his fate. The others would be wondering what became of him, and he felt a stab of guilt for leaving them. He had to get back. He didn't even know how the fight with Zarkon had ended, if Allura was okay. If they'd lost them both-

Okay, enough moping. He had a fragment of a plan; it was time to get moving. He had to get out of here, find a way off-planet and track down the Blade, if they existed.

He didn't have any money, which was a problem. He was going to talk to Allura when he got back about giving them some emergency funds for this sort of thing, he decided. He might be able to bargain for passage on a ship going somewhere specific, but that didn't help him get to some random coordinates.

“I guess it's piracy then,” he said.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Piracy, Shiro learned, was something you worked up to. First you started with fare evasion, because there were no spaceports on Marmora's lower surface, for obvious reasons. Thus he was obliged to find a way up onto one of the remaining fragments of the planet's shell. It didn't look like anyone was going to stop for a hitch-hiker, so he was obliged to vault the turnstile and ride a device that was somewhere between an elevator and a train up from the surface.

The carriages were stacked on top of each other, and shot up into the neon sky on electrified rails of some sort along the outside of the bridge connecting Marmora to the upper shell, while individual vehicles were funnelled up somewhere inside the giant tube. It was all very fascinating, and Shiro wished he had a chance to observe it properly, but he was concentrating more on trying to avoid the sentries and not draw attention to himself.

It was a nerve-wracking experience. There were a fair number of cameras, and galra sentries patrolled the crowd, checking tickets at whim. Shiro kept his face turned away from everyone as much as possible, gazing intently over his shoulder via the reflections in the porthole windows. Beyond the toughened glass the clouds swirled and lightning occasionally flickered as they made their way up through the atmosphere. It didn’t seem to be thinning much as they rose.  Occasionally it was possible to catch glimpses of the endless city sprawled out below, but Shiro didn't have time to sightsee.

Eventually he sat down in what appeared to be an area set aside for larger pieces of luggage. Hopefully out of view for a while, he could relax a bit and marshal his mental resources for whatever he'd have to do next.

Despite himself, his mind wandered, and it was Keith who invaded his thoughts uninvited. In his absence, the younger man should lead Voltron, and Shiro felt a stab of irritation at Keith's obstinate refusal to even countenance the idea. He'd been worried something like this (well, not like _this;_ no one could have predicted this) would happen, and he'd tried to prepare Keith for it, and Keith had refused to listen.

His faith was all very touching, but it wasn't doing him any good now, was it? He'd have to know Shiro was gone by now; it had been hours. Shiro knew Keith, knew what he'd be going through, knew he'd fight this fate with everything he had, and he knew it wouldn't help at all. He was too far away.

He should have been firmer, should have forced Keith to face up to the possibility he would be in charge, but he’d wanted to believe it too, that Keith’s faith would protect him. He’d survived a year as a gladiator after all.

Shiro's anger drained away, leaving something closer to despair.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered. “I'm trying to come home, I promise.” It wasn’t much of a promise as these things went but Shiro didn’t kid himself that he could guarantee anything more than that. As long as he could keep moving, focus on doing something, he was okay, but being forced to sit and do nothing was making him anxious and Shiro tried to focus on his breathing, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Are you hiding?” Shiro snapped his head up to see a small galra child of indeterminate gender peering at him over the edge of a chair.

“No,” Shiro said, forcing a smile. “I'm, I'm just resting. It's much more comfortable down here.”

The kid didn't look convinced, nose wrinkling in suspicion. Shiro leaned up to look about for their guardian, but the galra sitting next to the child was engrossed in something on a portable screen.

“It doesn’t look comfortable.”

Go away, Shiro thought, not really in the mood to entertain children right then. The child didn’t seem to be psychic, or capable of reading Shiro’s expression through his faceplate, because they kept their attention firmly fixed on him.

Clumping footsteps had Shiro leaning up to look over the row of seats, and shrinking down again when he saw two sentries approaching.

“You _are_ hiding!” the kid said gleefully.

“Shh!” The galra parent didn’t seem to be all that interested so far.

“Are you a terrorist?” the kid leaned over the side of the chair, peering through Shiro’s visor. Their eyes grew wide and their jaw dropped as they saw Shiro’s face. “The Champ-”

Shiro slapped a hand over their mouth. “Please be quiet,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Is it really you?” the child asked in a loud whisper, as soon as Shiro removed his hand. “You look different.”

“I cut my hair,” Shiro said. “I’m uh, on a special mission.”

“Wow. Is that why you’re hiding?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t tell!” The kid sat up straight in their chair, their gaze fixed in front of them, although they kept sneaking glances at Shiro. Shiro smiled awkwardly. The sentinels clumped past without a glance, and the carriage started to shudder. The seats and luggage racks swung freely on a frame, and the whole carriage rotated under artificial gravity in preparation for arrival.

The kid waved to him as the doors hissed open and the passengers thronged out into the station. Gravity was even lower here and Shiro bounded along, keeping to where the crowds were thickest.

He had to surreptitiously use his prosthetic hand to snap the arm off a gate, but he made it out onto the street again without getting arrested, and he gazed up at Marmora’s sparkling surface, the glowing clouds much thinner up here.

He needed the spaceport, which was presumably on the other side. As everyone else got into trams or flagged down a vehicle, Shiro started walking. At least it was cooler up here, and it wasn’t raining.

He felt like he’d been walking for hours by the time the skies darkened and Marmora disappeared below the horizon. He could see spacecraft appearing and disappearing through the clouds as they descended or departed and he followed them. He was tired and hungry and despite the low gravity his feet were starting to ache. He found himself gazing longingly at advertisements for food and drink and pausing to stare outside of restaurants.

Whatever they sold here it wasn’t food goo and his stomach growled at the smell.

The restaurants were beyond him, but the next vending machine he found got a fist through it, and he gathered all the snacks he could carry before darting down an alleyway to eat his stolen bounty, crunching down objects of unfathomable origin.

He’d had worse, he decided. Some of them were actually quite good, and he felt some of his energy return.

He forged on, and eventually the sprawling complex of the space station came into view. He'd been catching glimpses of it between the buildings for a while, as it was the largest structure for miles around by far. Truly, Marmora had to be the heart of the empire if this was merely one of its spaceports; vast docks speared up into the dusky purple sky, and dozens and dozens spaceships were latching onto or departing from the columns, incomprehensible lights blinking from every corner and spike.

The roads to the spaceport were very busy, although traffic was moving swiftly. Shiro picked up the pace, eager to get off-world as soon as possible.

Getting into the spaceport was easy enough as the doors opened smoothly for him, but navigating it was almost impossible. He couldn't read any of the signs, and there were almost constant announcements for arriving and departing ships over the loudspeakers that made it hard to think. Shiro wasn't going to attempt to steal a commercial spacecraft, but he kept finding himself back at near-identical departure lounges and getting increasingly irritated and worried. Eventually someone was going to ask him if he needed help.

The fact was, he could have used some help. He lacked a lot of skills that would have been pretty useful. Pidge would have hacked into the systems by now and mastered the entire station. Lance would have talked his way through. Hunk had a knack with alien engineering that Shiro lacked. Keith. Keith would have burned his way through. Fearless; willpower incarnate, he never hesitated, and took the most direct route to his goal.

Shiro paused at a window and gazed across at one of the docks; a number of small spacecraft were presumably refuelling. It would be the perfect opportunity to steal one, but Shiro had attempted to make his way over there several times and each time had gotten turned around. Curse the galra and their love of identical corridors.

Shiro put his hand on the glass. The most direct route, huh? They were so far from Marmora's surface that the atmosphere had all but thinned entirely and the stars were quite visible beyond the spaceport.

Well, that was fine. He was wearing a spacesuit. He glanced over his shoulder at the various aliens sitting waiting in the room behind him. None of them were particularly close to his window, and surely a building like this would have a robust de-pressurisation response.

He curled his prosthetic hand into a fist. Burn right through. His hand glowed as he drew it back and punched it against the toughened glass. A network of cracks spread out from the impact and someone behind him gave a yell of surprise. Shiro punched it again, and this time the pane shattered and he vaguely heard an alarm sound over the great whoosh of de-pressurisation as he was sucked through the broken window and jetted out into the mesosphere in a cloud of glittering glass fragments. Great metal shutters slammed shut at his heels, and he could see through one of the other windows that the room behind him was in chaos.

Hopefully no one got badly hurt; they were all still inside at least.

Gravity was gently tugging Shiro off-course, and he corrected it with his jet-pack, arrowing directly towards the docks opposite. Someone would definitely be coming to investigate the breach, and he had to get out of here quickly.

It was almost reassuring to be in space again, or near enough to. It was so quiet his own breathing and his heartbeat were the loudest sounds. He'd grown used to this. He arced gently towards the docks, and landed feet-first on the nose of one of the spacecraft.

The alien dozing in the cockpit awoke with a jerk as Shiro landed, and Shiro gave them what he hoped was a reassuringly jaunty wave before jetting off again. He'd rather not have to hijack an occupied ship; a hostage would complicate matters too much, and frankly he wasn't cut out for a life of crime.

He didn't want to hurt anyone.

As he landed on the next spaceship he noticed several sentries riding drones approaching the window he'd smashed. They examined it for a few moments and then spread out to search for him.

The ships were docked with the station, of course, so Shiro couldn't use the doors to break in. Instead he selected a ship that appeared empty and wasn't too large, and found an emergency hatch. It was designed to be opened from the inside, so he dug glowing fingers into the metal around the edge of the hatch and heaved.

It didn't budge. The mechanism that kept it secure against the vacuum of space also worked against him. He gritted his teeth and grabbed his wrist with his other hand, his feet braced on the side of the ship as he pulled at it, the metal skin of the vehicle wrinkling under the pressure.

He couldn't afford to destroy the hatch; he needed this thing to fly, and hopefully remain pressurised.

He flinched as a bolt of energy scored the metal next to his foot.

The sentries had found him. He cast about for some sort of weapon, as they were too far off for him to attempt to close the gap and use his hand, but everything was sleek unbroken metal surfaces, not so much as an aerial.

To hell with it. He jabbed his fingers into the gap he'd already created, punching down through the skin of the spacecraft, breaking the seal, and clawing the hatch open as a rind of frost formed on his hands as the vacuum sucked the air out of the ship and it instantly froze. It was ugly and inelegant, and he ducked as a stray bolt went over his head; he didn't think the sentries were keen on damaging the ship.

He flung himself through the hatch, and yanked it shut behind him as he swung on the hatch. He used his hand to solder the gash he'd made closed, and hoped it would be enough. He soldered the hatch closed as well; he'd just have to hope he didn't need to make an emergency exit.

Shiro hurried down the spine of the ship, only snatching brief glances at the rooms to the side. It was pretty nicely outfitted; he caught a glimpse of a kitchen and a small seating area. Whoever owned this ship would probably be rather unhappy to lose it. The ship itself was sounding what was probably a low pressure alarm and he made his way to the cockpit and flung himself down into the seat.

He had no idea what he was doing. The general controls were easy enough, but the Lions were very light on buttons and switches, and this ship most definitely was not.

“Quiznak!” He could see the sentries through the front window, forming up around the ship. He'd have to go through them as it was. He didn't think this ship had weapons. He fought the urge to panic and start stabbing buttons, instead trying to work it out logically. He was a trained pilot; he'd flown many things, including a galra fighter, so surely the layout couldn't be that different, in this alien-built spaceship in an alternate universe-

Just stop thinking about it.

He cautiously touched a switch.

Nothing happened.

He tried a different one, with no more success. A third produced a new tone in the alarm sound, and some red lights on the dashboard. Brilliant.

“How do I turn this thing on?” he demanded. A screen flickered on, displaying a string of alien words followed by two symbols below it.

He pressed one, and the screen went dark. Crap.

“How do I turn this thing on?” he tried again and this time selected the other option.

“Voice control enabled. What would you like to do?”

Shiro sagged with relief. “Re-pressurise interior. Disconnect fuel lines. Withdraw docking bolts. Prepare for launch.”

The ship shuddered and sighed around him, and told him air supplies were at seventy-three percent, and fuel supplies were at sixty-seven percent.

“Prepare to receive co-ordinates,” Shiro said. The sentries outside had realised what he was about to do, because a blast of energy bolts hit the front of the ship. Shiro narrowed his eyes and concentrated on remembering the co-ordinates Pidge had extracted from his arm.

“Manual flight control,” he said, as the engines purred to life. He grinned with relief as the ship surged forward under his direction. One of the sentries and its drone clanked against the ship's nose and bounced off as the others darted out of the way. Finally he was getting somewhere.

Several lights on the dashboard suggested someone was trying to hail him, but he ignored them; he could guess what they'd have to say.

“Warp speed, Mister Sulu,” he muttered.

“Unknown command,” the ship replied, and Shiro patted the dash comfortingly. They'd work it out. In the meantime, he had to focus on getting out of here without getting shot down, and he was obliged to push the ship to her limits as he dodged around other vessels, using them to cover his escape from Marmora’s vast docking zone as he made for the freedom and anonymity of deep space.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

After the stress of navigating his way around Marmora and the exhilaration of a successful escape, Shiro’s greatest enemy quickly became boredom, as the stolen ship smoothly began its preprogrammed journey.

The coordinates were sending him half a galaxy away, and his ship hardly had the ability to use wormholes to get around. It occurred to him that they’d been utterly spoiled in the Castle of Lions, thanks to Allura’s abilities. Space travel was for the most part extremely slow and dull, and even though the ship he’d stolen was still many times faster than anything humanity could build, he was stuck flying it for what felt like at least a week.

Nevertheless, he’d picked well. The ship was clearly expensive; the food goo in the kitchen came in two exciting varieties of orange and blue, the beds were comfortable, the bathing facilities were adequate if not luxurious, the autopilot reassuringly robust, and there was a staggering amount of alien pornography in the library, along with a collection of action films all starring galra heroes defending the empire from a variety of unlikely threats. Shiro sat through one of the latter in its entirety, but it made him feel ill to serve himself such propaganda. The former he left well enough alone, quite certain there were sights in this universe he was not prepared to see.

Part of his training as a pilot had prepared him for long space flights, but they hadn’t prepared him for the pressure of experiencing such a flight without knowing if there was anything at his destination or not. It was maddening not to know. It was equally frustrating to know that with every day that passed his friends would suffer; he hadn’t even left behind a body to mourn. He knew they’d keep looking for him as long as they could.

Shiro spent his time training, clearing the lounge area of furniture so he could do sit-ups and push-ups and shadowbox until sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He tried to sleep properly as well, without a lot of success.

He took to sitting in the cockpit and dozing, just watching the universe float by, slightly comforted by the fact that if anything went wrong he was already at the controls.

Or maybe it he was secretly hoping something would go wrong. Anything to break the monotony.

In the end Shiro arrived without incident; the sheer vastness of space ensuring he hadn’t seen a single other vessel the entire trip. The autopilot announced he was at his destination, but he’d already been watching the vast field of crystal clusters shining in front of him for several hours as his ship had approached. It looked exactly as he remembered it and he took manual command of the spaceship, careful to avoid getting too close to the unstable formations.

There was no artificial structures that he could see, but there hadn’t been anything to see in his home universe either, the communications post cleverly hidden by Slav’s invention. Shiro edged closer. This time Ulaz wouldn’t be waiting for him, but the communications station could be accessed from the outside. Shiro didn’t know the code to reveal it, but he guessed that the Blade would investigate any anomalous communications it received anyway. Thus, he he simply tried to hail it, a short-range communication on all frequencies.

“My name is Takashi Shirogane. I’m looking for the Blade of Marmora, and I’m here to help,” he transmitted. There was no immediate response, but he hadn’t expected one. All there was left to do now was more waiting.

Patience yields focus, he told himself.

He was on his second sleep-cycle when something woke him up. He flinched awake in the pilot's seat and stared out at the field of crystals before him. Nothing had changed, but he was sure something other than a nightmare had roused him.

He remembered how easily Ulaz had infiltrated the castle when he heard the airlock door hiss open. It was much harder to sneak onto a ship the size of a small apartment, he supposed.

“I'm in here,” he called, holding his hands out at his sides as he rose and went to greet his visitor. He couldn't claim to be unarmed, and he didn't try.

He walked out of the cockpit and sagged with relief to see a dark figure hovering in the hallway, the blue lights under their cowl and the blade in their hand entirely familiar to him. They're here. They exist.

He wasn't alone any more.

“It's just me here,” Shiro said. “This is all going to sound pretty strange to you, but I'm...” He trailed off as the figure moved forward, cautiously.

They were pretty short for a galra, shorter than Shiro himself, but as they moved forward Shiro realised there was something achingly, desperately familiar about them.

Their proportions were human. Not just any human either, but a human he knew well. Even the way they moved; he'd recognise it anywhere. Recognise _him_ anywhere. He'd seen him in that suit before, hadn't really been able to look away from it for various reasons at the time, and he'd remembered the way it had hugged his body, clung to his lean thighs and firm stomach.

Shiro stepped forward to meet his visitor, his face pulling into a grin, his heart soaring. Why hadn't he considered the possibility that the others might have joined him in this universe also? Thank goodness Keith had the same idea he had.

Because it was Keith. Had to be, even with the faceless mask and hood he couldn't disguise himself from Shiro. He'd know him anywhere.

“Keith,” Shiro said and the figure froze. Shiro stepped past the blade and hugged him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “I'm so glad to see you. How did you get here before me?” he asked.

Keith drove his knee into Shiro's stomach.

Utterly unprepared for the move, Shiro buckled, wheezing, as Keith expertly swung him round and wrenched his arm behind him, pushing him forward onto his knees. Shiro could just barely feel that razor sharp blade against the back of his neck.

“How do you know that name?” Keith demanded, and although it was slightly muffled by the mask, his voice was unmistakable. “Tell me!”

Shiro struggled for breath, his stomach aching. “Keith, it's me, Shiro. Your friend. We were fighting Zarkon, remember? And I ended up in this universe.” He frowned and twisted his head to try and look at Keith from the corner of his eye, an alternative explanation occurring to him. “You're from this universe, aren't you? You're not the Keith I know.”

“Who are you?” Keith demanded, his grip on Shiro's arm not slackening. Shiro didn't try to fight him.

“I'm, uh, there's no quick way of saying this. The champion of the arena, you know, the human who-”

“Yes, I know who the Champion is,” Keith said impatiently.

“I'm him, but from another universe. A member of the Blade of Marmora called Ulaz rescued me-” Keith abruptly let him go and stepped back.

“Ulaz wanted to rescue the Champion,” Keith said in a slightly strained voice. “But was overruled because it might have compromised his position.” Shiro stayed on his knees on the floor, waiting for Keith to decide what to do. Eventually he put his blade away. “Your story is very strange, but you do look like him. The Champion, I mean. And you know a lot about the Blade. Too much.”

“We ended up working together, in my universe. Ulaz- I owe him my life, twice over.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of story someone would make up, but I'm going to see what the others want to do with you. If you make one false move, I'll kill you.”

“I understand,” Shiro said, and got to his feet.

“Where did you get this ship?” Keith asked.

“I stole it. I was stuck on Marmora and I needed a ride out here.”

“Huh.” Keith tilted his head. “That's kind of impressive. It's registered to the High Command. Probably transport for off-duty VIPs. We can't take it with us; they’ll be tracking it so it'll lead them straight to us. You've already led them to our communications post, although they won't find it. I hope. We need to destroy the ship, either way.” He waited a beat for Shiro to object, but he was just glad to see the last of it, especially if galra forces were tracking it.

He'd had enough of being tracked by Zarkon.

Shiro didn't know if he was a guest or a hostage as Keith escorted him off his ship and into a much smaller, more spartan vessel. At least he didn't try to restrain him, although Shiro wouldn't have objected if he had.

Keith's ship was more heavily armed too, and a couple of blasts from its lasers sent Shiro's ship spinning slowly towards one of the crystal clusters, to meet its ultimate end. They watched the explosion bloom silently in the vacuum of space.

“We need to get out of here,” Keith said, and sent his ship zipping off through the crystal clusters, while Shiro hung on to the back of his chair.

“Still a great pilot in this universe,” Shiro said.

Keith stiffened slightly, and it was so strange, so disheartening to get such a negative response, but Shiro had to remind himself that this Keith didn't know him. Hadn't he been equally as prickly and suspicious when they'd first met back at the Garrison? The circumstances now were even worse. Keith had good reasons to be wary of him.

Shiro fell silent, and although Keith occasionally turned to look at him, his masked face giving nothing away, he didn't say anything either until they were approaching their destination, a rather run-down collection of space junk with a big glowing sign out the front. The interplanetary equivalent of a truck-stop, Shiro supposed.

“I'm going to report to my superiors,” Keith said. “See what they want to do with you. This is kind of above my pay grade.”

“What exactly do you do?” Shiro asked.

“Like I'd tell you that. What do _you_ do?”

“I pilot the Black Lion.”

Keith stared at him, and Shiro had to yell before he realised they were nearly flying right into another ship docked at the station, and pulled them up in time.

“You're joking, right,” Keith said, his voice carefully toneless as he manoeuvred the ship.

“I think she sent me here in the first place.”

They docked not at the station but at another, larger ship, somewhat scuffed up and carefully nondescript. As soon as they boarded Keith paused and took off his helmet, tapping the side of his mask so it faded away and peeling the cowl back over his head, his dark hair falling forward over his eyes. He had a braid draped over his right shoulder and his hair was brushed forward over his ears, but otherwise looked much the same.

Except the look in his eyes was nothing Shiro recognised. He'd never considered how Keith had regarded him before; they'd known each other for so long it was comfortable, familiar, but now Keith's face held no trace of affection, just a sort of challenging curiosity. Keith had always looked at him with such warmth. He missed it. He missed him, even more acutely now his unapproachable double was right in front of him.

They looked at each other in silence, Shiro unable to decide what to say, Keith's gaze quartering him, over and over.

“Everyone says I take after my human side,” Keith muttered eventually. “I've never met a human before though,” he shrugged awkwardly.

“Yeah, you do,” Shiro said. “The Keith I knew grew up on Earth. We didn't even realise you were part galra until recently.”

“I'm not part galra,” Keith scowled. “I'm part human. That doesn't mean you should underestimate me.” With that he turned and marched off, pausing only to beckon when Shiro didn't immediately follow.

Right, of course, a child raised among galra wouldn't think of themselves as human regardless of how much they looked like one.

Shiro watched silently as Keith stood at the controls of the larger spacecraft and attempted to get a secure connection.

“I don't like connecting directly like this. Even though we encrypt the feed it could be traced,” he said, and glanced at Shiro again. “But this might be important. I hope.” He frowned, his hands hovering over the buttons.

“Why are you so worried?” Shiro asked.

Keith didn't answer for a while, his jaw set, the blueish glow of the control panel reflecting off his eyes.

“Look if there's anything I can tell you that will help, just ask.”

“I'm not doing this just because you're human!” Keith snapped, shoulders hunched defensively.

Shiro held his hands up. “Right, of course not.” He knew Keith well enough to read his moods, and he knew the fact that he could do so although he was almost a complete stranger was pissing Keith off more. He gave him some physical space, moving to the side of the room and letting Keith concentrate on the controls.

Instead he watched the space station through the window. It wasn't very busy, just a handful of aliens sitting in the dining area.

As prickly as Keith was, Shiro was feeling far more comfortable in this universe now. He couldn't help but consider Keith an ally; they'd become friends once, and it had felt right and inevitable at the time and he couldn't convince himself it would be different now. He'd never known anyone quite like Keith, and even in this universe he was recognisably himself.

He'd forgotten to look at the spaceport, he realised, and was watching Keith give a verbal report to a blank screen from which a voice Shiro thought might be Kolivan’s occasionally answered him. He looked away swiftly. Keith had every reason to stare, but he didn't.

“Dammit! The galra are here,” he said, as he watched several soldiers walk into the well-lit interior of the station, weapons slung casually over their backs. Presumably they were the group tracking the ship Shiro had stolen. It didn’t look like it was a high priority, given there were only a handful of them, but it wouldn't do to be found.

“The _Empire_ is here,” Keith corrected him. “Not all galra support Zarkon. Now relax, they've got no reason to bother us.”

As he spoke the console lit up.

“This is Station Control. All ships will remain docked for a routine surprise inspection,” a voice drawled over the communicator. “Let's hope it's as quick as possible as folks have business to get to. While you're waitin' why not stop on by for a freshly fri-” Keith cut the connection.

“Just great,” he said. “Well, my identification is in order. Is yours?” He glanced at Shiro's hand. “You won’t have any. Maybe trying to bluff you through would be a bad idea anyway. I'll find you somewhere to hide. Stay put; I need to get changed.” He scrambled up into a room above the cockpit Shiro hadn't even noticed, and Shiro could hear the sound of cloth rustling and buckles clinking.

He stared out the window, as the galra—that is, Empire—soldiers conversed briefly before splitting up to start searching the handful of ships docked at the station. It wouldn't take them long to get to Keith's.

“Right!” Keith dropped down from the room above having replaced his Blade of Marmora suit with a ratty t-shirt, scuffed up boots and patched leather pants. He had a cap on his head and Shiro had to bite his tongue as he took in his outfit.

It looked like Keith was a fan of cropped jackets regardless of what universe he came from.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Keith absolutely had to keep his thoughts under control. This Shiro had just knocked his universe entirely off-kilter and he didn't have time to think about it right now. He had to focus on his mission; do his duty as a member of the Blade, and worry about his own personal feelings later.

He didn’t like the way the human was looking at him, like he could see right through him, read his thoughts. He couldn’t, Keith reminded himself, he just thought he could because they were apparently friends in a whole other universe.

The kind of friends that hugged each other on sight. Keith was furious at himself for getting so distracted by hearing his own name that he'd let him get that close. If Shiro had planned on killing him then he could have done it, effortlessly.

He'd smelled good. He smelled like something Keith didn't know he'd been missing his entire life.

Stop thinking. Leave it until later. He doubted the soldiers were planning on making a thorough inspection, but even if they didn’t connect Shiro to the stolen ship he had a famous face and Keith couldn't afford to let them see it. It was just too suspicious.

It was Shiro's face that had convinced Keith of the truth of his story. He’d watched the Champion fight many times, and despite the clothes and hairstyle he was almost certain the human in front of him was the same person. Well, almost the same person. This was going to get very confusing, but he suspected Shiro was having even more trouble with it. Not only did he have Keith to contend with, but his own doppelganger.

“There’s a smuggler’s compartment under the front console,” Keith said, kneeling and pulling the false panel back to reveal it. “It’ll be a bit tight, but it’s the best I can do.”

“I’m not sure I’ll fit,” Shiro said as he knelt down to peer into the space.

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Well hold your breath or something. There aren't any other options.” He'd assumed that because he was half galra he'd be larger than the average human, and he’d been irritated to discover this was not the case. In fact, faced with an actual human, he had to admit he hardly had any galra features at all.

Well, it wasn't just about how he looked. He was galra where it counted, and he was on a mission. He was determined as always to complete it successfully, prove himself to be worthy of the blade he carried despite his human blood.

And that meant, for now, wedging Shiro into the crawlspace.

He wouldn't fit. Keith could see he was trying, and so he resisted the urge to use his foot to help him. If he pulled his head in, his shoulder stuck out, if he pulled his shoulders in, his head stuck out. There was no way the panel was going to fit back on, and they were running out of time.

They'd just have to make do; a galra soldier was approaching the ship’s airlock, strolling along the dock. Keith tried to prop the panel up against Shiro, but it slid down almost immediately. Scratch that then. He turned some music on loud, and sat back down in the pilot’s chair, putting his booted feet on the console above Shiro’s head, hoping his legs would block the view.

When the soldier knocked on the outer door of the airlock, Keith hit the button to open it, and stayed where he was.

“Through here,” he called, and settled his cap down further over his eyes. He had his blade strapped against his lower back, but he'd prefer not to use it.

The soldier tromped in, and Keith yawned at him and waved his card to be scanned, which had a carefully-doctored ship’s manifest going back several years. It passed inspection, and Keith tucked it back into the pocket of his jacket.

“Have you seen this ship?” the soldier asked, showing him an image of the stolen space yacht.

“Can’t say I have. She’s a nice one though.” The soldier didn't seem surprised by the answer.

“What’s up there?” the soldier indicated the loft.

“Living space. Help yourself.” Keith shifted his legs slightly, trying to keep them between the soldier's line of sight and Shiro's head. He tried not to think about Shiro's line of sight.

As the soldier climbed up Keith shifted his boot slightly to glance at his passenger. He was frowning, focused, his eyes meeting Keith’s with a determined look. Honestly, he could have laughed; one soldier was hardly a challenge. He could take the whole group of them if he had to. He shifted his foot again as the soldier came back down.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said perfunctorily as he went to examine the rest of the ship.

Keith lazily waved a hand and settled down like he was resuming an interrupted nap. He listened carefully to the soldier clambering around the ship.

And then he realised he'd screwed up. Badly.

The ship he'd used to collect Shiro was a galra fighter. They were common enough across the galaxy to be almost unnoticeable, and Blade operatives within the Galra Empire's munitions and supply structure could acquire them fairly easily without drawing attention. But there was absolutely no good reason for a run-down civilian freighter to have one docked at its airlock.

Normally Keith would have untethered it from within the ship and retrieved it later, but with all the concern over hiding Shiro he'd plain fucking forgot which was the kind of thing that got people killed, and he was instantly flooded with rage and shame. Partly he was angry with Shiro for existing, but mostly for himself for being careless.

He vaulted out of the chair and went after the soldier, drawing his blade as he went, hoping there was still some way to salvage the situation even as he heard the airlock to the docking bay hiss open.

The soldier had raised his gun instinctively as he stared at the fighter, sitting squat and dark and spiky in the hangar bay, unexpected like a black hole at the heart of a harmless-looking nebula.

“Hey what's this doing he-” He turned just in time to see Keith coming, the heavy boots he'd put on as part of his disguise giving away his approach. The soldier fired, something in Keith's expression or stance giving away his murderous intent, instinct jerking the gun in the soldier's hand. The shot went wild, streaking down the corner over Keith's shoulder to score a burn through the insulation near the ceiling.

That's torn it, Keith thought; the others will be alerted now. He focused his fury, ducking down under the arc of the soldier's gun, and sweeping his blade up into his neck, under the helmet as he'd practised so many times before, executing a flawless killing strike that he didn't have time to be proud of.

The soldier's helmet spluttered with chatter as his comrades told him to report, asking why he’d discharged his weapon. Keith bent down to silence the fallen soldier’s radio and pick up his gun as Shiro hurried down the corridor.

“I didn’t tell you to come out of hiding,” Keith said.

“You killed him.”

“He saw the fighter. And now we have to kill the others.”

“Couldn’t we just leave? There's nothing keeping us here. No one else has to die.”

“This ship can’t outrun the Empire’s patrol cruisers, and once it’s been identified we won’t be able to hide either.” Keith hefted the weapon and checked that it was fully charged. “No one said you had to help. In fact, don’t help. It’s not like I can’t handle a patrol by myself,” he said, although his performance this particular mission was not very encouraging.

Shit.

Shiro’s shoulders dropped. “Let me help,” he said quietly. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Can you follow orders?” Keith asked. He could tell Shiro was more used to giving them, just the way he spoke told him that.

“Yes, Keith,” he said, his expression strange and unreadable.

“Go out through the other airlock and locate their ship. I’ll have to give you an access code-”

“Don’t bother; we don't have time,” Shiro said, flexing his prosthetic hand. It was smaller and sleeker than the one the Champion had, but it glowed just the same. “I can get in one way or another.”

“Disable communications and engines and cut off their escape route. I’ll give you five doboshes to get in position.”

He stared at Shiro, daring him to argue or make a counter suggestion, but in the end the human nodded and closed his helmet without comment.

“Good luck,” he said.

“I don’t need it,” Keith said, as Shiro hurried off. At least, he normally didn’t need it. And if he was going to start making rookie mistakes luck wasn’t going to be enough.

He hunkered down in the cockpit, watching the soldiers regroup in the dining area, the ordinary customers hurrying to their ships or hiding somewhere safer now it looked like there was going to be a fight. Luckily these soldiers hadn’t realised he was a rebel; they would have used the locals as hostages if they had. As it was he guessed they’d assume he was a smuggler, or something similar.

He’d given Shiro enough time. It was his turn to fix the mess he’d made.

Keith had no option but to go along the dock back towards the space station. There wasn’t a lot of cover, so he ran with the gun pressed snugly against his shoulder as he laid down covering fire as he did his best to be a small, moving target. He didn’t need to hit them he just needed to stop them shooting at him until he’d closed the gap.

They’d overturned some tables as temporary barricades, and Keith didn’t try storming them. Instead he shot out one of the ventilation ducts, kicked over a chair and vaulted up onto it to get enough height to catch onto the edge one-handed and squirm up into it.

He wiggled along as best he was able, missing his suit which was designed for this  sort of thing. His work boots didn’t have anywhere near as much grip, and they could probably hear him, or they would if they stopped shouting about him being in the vents.

Standard size vents are too small for galra, but are adequate size for half-humans, and Keith had seized upon one of the few advantages of his mixed blood and had practised until he was entirely at home in them.

He froze when the soldiers fell quiet. The vents wouldn’t take more than a couple of direct hits, but how many people knew the standard layout for ventilation ducts, other than Keith himself?

When he heard them move away he started shuffling forward to the next vent, and he waited, looking down into the brightly lit dining area. When he judged them far enough away, he put his foot through the vent and dropped, the clatter of his fall drowned out by his gun.

He took two of them out before they’d had time to locate him and ran at the others while they scrambled for cover. He kicked a chair into one before diving for cover himself.

The ensuing fire-fight was noisy and brutal. Keith took out the lights as he went, keeping low behind bits of furniture. As he’d claimed, these ordinary galra soldiers were no match for a Blade of Marmora operative, even one who wasn’t fully galra. Keith was swift and precise, keeping them cowering behind cover until he could get into position for a clear shot.

The dining area was in a shambles when quiet finally descended, the walls scarred with energy blasts, and quite a few of the tables overturned and splintered. Keith looked up at the little dome of a security camera in the ceiling. He wasn’t done yet.

The manager was sitting in an office on the second floor, and when Keith shot the door open, he was cowering under the desk, his hands over his eyes and his antennae drooping.

“Don’t kill me!” he said.

“I need access to the data cache,” Keith said. “And your safe,” he added, as an afterthought. He didn’t go in for theft, but if he could he’d make this whole thing look like a smuggling operation or robbery gone wrong. He pressed the hot muzzle of his gun against the back of the manager’s head and he nodded and scrambled to obey.

Keith collected the cash, and emptied his gun into the data centre, frying the security images and the most recent docking records. Already some ships were leaving, taking advantage of the lull in the fighting to get out while they could.

The Imperial patrol cruiser was still sitting at its dock, and Keith wondered how Shiro was getting on. He ushered the manager into a storeroom and locked him in before going in search of Shiro.

He met him running the other way.

“There you are! We have to go,” he called, barely slowing down as he ran past Keith.

“Why?” He glanced back the way Shiro had come and then hurried after him. “What did you do?”

“Honestly I’m not sure, but it didn’t look good.”

The next thing Keith knew, his boots were skidding along the floor as the ship exploded, the shock wave punching them both a few feet down the corridor, Keith crashing into Shiro’s back before he could catch himself.

The de-pressurisation alarm sounded in the wake of the explosion, and now they were pulled backwards as the air rushed out into the gap behind them.

“Quiznak!” Keith yelped. Shiro had his spacesuit, but Keith was still in his cargo pilot outfit. The steel doors were coming down to seal off the breach, and he clawed empty air as he tried to pull himself forward towards them. Fuck these fucking boots, Keith thought as he felt them skid.

Shiro’s reflexes were almost galra-like. Keith felt him grab his flailing wrist as he braced himself, and with some effort Shiro yanked Keith off his feet and threw him through the closing doors, nearly dislocating his arm in the process.

Keith only had time to think that humans really were stronger than they looked when the door slammed shut just over his head, and the atmosphere stabilised.

He went back to his ship, refusing to admit how shaken he was to be to close to an instant death, his palms clammy and his heart racing as he waited for Shiro to make his way into the airlock. As soon as he was safely aboard, Keith got them the hell out of there. Every patrol in the sector would be called in over this.

“Are you all right?” was the first thing Shiro asked, as he joined him in the cockpit.

“Yes,” Keith replied, nettled that Shiro felt the need to ask. And then, because he wasn’t a dick, and he knew a life-saving act when he saw one he added, “That was a pretty interesting technique.”

“Allura saved me from capture with it once,” he said. “She made it look easy though.”

“Who’s Allura?” Keith asked.

Shiro blinked at him in surprise. “You don’t know? She’s the princess of Altea, and I guess you’d say she’s our leader. I wonder if she even exists in this reality.” He slumped in the co-pilot’s seat. “She's pretty important. We wouldn't have got this far without her.” He shook his head. “What’s the plan now? Where are we going?”

“We can’t risk any more transmissions for now,” Keith said. “They’ll be sweeping the area, so we’re just going to the Headquarters of the Blade.” And if they chose to punish him for it, so be it; he wanted Shiro to be someone else’s responsibility as soon as possible.

“That base between the two black holes?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. It still didn’t sit well how much Shiro knew about the Blade of Marmora; all their greatest secrets so casually mentioned. “I take it you’ve been there.”

“You were with me, that is, the other you.” Shiro fell silent, frowning, his head bowed, the corners of his mouth turned sharply down. Just how much did this other Keith mean to him, he wondered. He looked like a man in mourning.

Keith could think of nothing helpful to say.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

As they approached the headquarters of the Blade of Marmora Shiro seemed to relax despite the way the freighter’s old engines made the whole ship rattle and vibrate when they travelled at any decent percentage of light speed. Keith, on the other hand, felt more and more tense.

He’d never had a mission go this badly before. And he’d certainly never done anything as disobedient as bringing a stranger to their headquarters without orders to do so. He couldn’t risk contacting Kolivan again so soon for those orders and part of him didn’t want to risk Kolivan saying no, either.

He believed Shiro.

He believed Shiro because Shiro seemed to effortlessly believe in him; Keith had never been treated with such casual esteem before, not by anyone. It felt strange not to have to work to earn someone’s respect.

It threw him off balance, especially since he’d done the opposite of deserve it. Shiro might not have grasped the scale of his blunder, but Keith knew all too well.

So he approached the closest place to home he had with a stone in his stomach and a dry mouth. He’d changed back into his suit, but it didn’t give him the comfort it usually did.

He’d timed his approach carefully, and they didn’t have to wait to land on the surface of the hidden asteroid, although Keith almost wished he could have delayed them. No. Best get it over with.

“It’ll be okay,” Shiro said, trying to be comforting and having the opposite effect.

“You don’t know that,” Keith said. “You don’t know anything.”

Shiro didn’t argue, but Keith could sense he was trying to radiate support and he wondered if this was just a human thing; a human backing up another he saw as his own species.

And then again, he wondered what sort of friends other-Keith and Shiro were.

Kolivan was not waiting for him; Keith and Shiro were obliged to walk through, past the silent galra on guard duty to the command centre.

“It’s just the same as in my universe,” Shiro said quietly, looking about him.

Keith didn’t say anything, hiding behind his mask and his own face which he held as still as stone.

Kolivan wasn’t pleased. He loomed over them both, arms folded and eyes narrowed.

“I will hear your report, Blade,” he said finally.

Keith gave it, as clipped and precise as possible, but his voice faltered when he came to tell what had happened at the space station.

“I left the fighter docked in the airlock. I-I forgot it was there.” He rushed on, feeling Kolivan’s glare practically burning a hole in his mask, and Shiro’s misplaced sympathy at his side. “The soldier found it, and I was forced to attack him before he could report.” He detailed the rest of the fight with none of his usual pride at his combat expertise. It was a shit-show and he knew it.

“Since we were maintaining radio silence, I made the decision to bring Shiro here.” He risked looking into Kolivan’s face. “I believe his story, and if it’s true he might hold the key to defeating Zarkon once and for all. We can’t ignore this. It might-”

He cut off as Kolivan held up his hand. “What is this story exactly? All I’ve heard are fragments.” He turned to Shiro, who gazed up at him with a sort of respectful determination, like he wasn’t in great danger of losing his life here. “What do you want, human?”

“I want to go home. My friends- the other paladins, everyone, need my help. And to do that, I need to return the way I came, through the Black Lion, I think. But my personal needs aside, if nothing else, we need to get the Lions out of Zarkon’s hands. Voltron was our only hope in my universe; it's the only thing capable of standing against Zarkon.”

“Hm.” Kolivan wasn’t giving anything away. Even Keith couldn’t tell if he was being persuaded or not, but Shiro wasn’t done.

“And, I want to rescue the other me. That is, the Champion. I don’t know if he’s capable of piloting the Black Lion in this universe, but he might have to learn. The Lions choose their pilots. Black chose me just like Red chose Keith.”

“What?” Keith couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. It hadn’t occurred to him that _he_ might have been one the paladins Shiro spoke of. The very idea made his heart quicken, a great and terrible hope surging his his breast. “I piloted a Lion?”

Could this be his purpose?

“You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge,” Shiro said. “Although I guess the others are still on Earth in this reality.” He frowned and looked at Kolivan. “What happened? How did Zarkon get the Lions? One of them was hidden on Earth.”

“That was the case,” Kolivan confirmed.

“Then what happened to Earth?” Shiro asked, his eyes wide with horrified fear. “Ulaz rescued me and sent me back to warn them- why didn’t you let him warn them!?” he shouted.

“Calm yourself,” Kolivan growled. “Earth exists still. It has few resources of interest to Zarkon, and its dominant species has barely achieved space flight.” He flicked his gaze briefly to Keith. “Once he had the Blue Lion he had no reason to remain. With the exception of the Champion, humans are beneath his notice.”

Shiro’s shoulders dropped. “I see.”

“Warning them would have done no good. They couldn’t hope to stand against Zarkon’s forces, and resisting would have only tempted him to retaliate. We are not indifferent to the suffering of other species.”

“I apologise. But please, will you help me?”

“That needs to be discussed. To steal the Black Lion, to steal any of them, is a suicide mission.”

“I volunteer,” Keith said, his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to pilot the Red Lion, more than anything. It would prove himself worthy, once and for all, of his mother’s blade. Even his counterpart could manage it although he’d been raised on Earth, so surely-

“You are in no position to volunteer for anything,” Kolivan said. “You’ve been inexcusably sloppy, and almost as incautious as Ulaz bringing this human here. You will go back to your training.”

Keith willed Shiro not to say anything, and to his credit he didn’t interfere.

“If we are to make a decision, we need to hear everything about this alternate universe of yours,” Kolivan said.

“I understand. Look, Keith-”

“Is not your concern. In fact, he is dismissed.”

Keith turned on his heel and walked out without a word. It took effort not to run; he needed some space, some time away from Shiro’s kind eyes, so similar to his own.

As much as he wanted to hide away in his own quarters, he knew he’d feel better if he trained. It was soothing to put his body through the familiar movements, to jump and kick and punch.

Or it should have been.

He couldn’t decide if Kolivan believed Shiro or not and he went back and forth with every strike he made.

If Kolivan didn’t believe him what would he do? Kill Shiro, probably. He knew too much. He’d arrived in this universe knowing too much. This was war, and the only hope the Blade had was remaining hidden. Every Blade was prepared to die before revealing information, and prepared to kill as well. If Kolivan decided Shiro would die, Keith had no right to argue otherwise.

“Keith.”

Keith jumped, flinching guiltily as he realised he'd been staring blankly at the training dummy for five minutes, going over the layout of the base should he have to sneak Shiro out of it. Betrayal comes so easily to me, he thought, is it just because he's human? Maybe they were right to have reservations about his mixed blood. But if they had the slightest chance of getting the Black Lion, wouldn't it all be worth it? Keith packed his thoughts away guiltily, as if they could be read through his skull, and glanced over his shoulder.

Antok stood in the doorway, arms folded.

“Do you need me for something?” Keith asked, knowing the galra had noticed his inattention.

“Kolivan suggested I put you through some training of appropriately taxing difficulty,” Antok said, unfolding his arms and strolling into the room, looking around at the various weapons available to spar with but not approaching them for now. “But I think you'd like that. It's preferable to talking, isn't it?”

Antok knew him too well. After his mother had failed to return from a mission, it was Antok who took on the greater burden of caring for her strange, small, fragile child. It wasn't a task he took to easily, but Keith believed he'd done his best. He'd trained him very well, put him through the trial, and it had been his form the suit had generated to try and dissuade him from continuing.

His greatest fear had been disappointing his guardian.

“Stop hiding behind your mask,” Antok said, and Keith tapped it off without hesitation, forcing himself to meet the galra's eyes. As always, he failed to discern what Antok was really thinking, if he shared Kolivan's disapproval of Keith's actions.

“Did he tell you what happened?” Keith asked.

“It didn't just 'happen,' it was your actions that led to consequences.” Antok watched him for a few moments while Keith tried not to let a wave of guilt tug him under. It wasn't about him, not really, it was Shiro that was the key to this, and his own feelings of inadequacy served neither of them.

“I'll accept those consequences,” Keith said. “I accept I made mistakes, but I don't accept that bringing him here was one of them. I stand by that decision.”

“If you want my validation you can have it. He knows so much about us, the best place for him is here until we decide what to do with him. It is not that choice that has landed you in this position and you know it.” Antok waited until it was clear Keith wasn't going to speak without being prompted. “What do you want to ask me?”

“What does Kolivan think about Shi- I mean, the human? Does he believe him?”

“He hasn't decided and he doesn't have to yet. There are ways of verifying his story, after all, that we should explore first.”

“Like what?”

“Ulaz has access to the Champion's medical records. Comparing their biometric data will tell us something, although it won't be conclusive. He might be a clone, although his story seems too strange, too unlikely and he tells it well.”

“You've seen him?”

“Mm. He certainly looks like the Champion to me, but humans are not especially varied as a species as far as I can tell.”

“He's the same man, I'm sure of it.”

“Yes, Kolivan mentioned you were convinced. Perhaps overexcited by the thought of piloting a Lion?”

Keith set his jaw and said nothing.

Antok sighed, and put a heavy hand on Keith's shoulder. “Hope can be almost as dangerous as despair. We can't let our desire for what we wish to be true blind us to what  _ is  _ true.”

“What do you think about all of this?” Keith asked.

“About Voltron and the Black Lion? I don't know. It seems impossible; Shiro originates from a much luckier universe than ours, if what he says is true.”

“I see.”

“On the other hand, there might be merit in recruiting the Champion regardless, like Ulaz originally suggested.” Antok wandered over to the weapon racks, running his gloved hand across them meditatively. “There's no point in sending him back to his home planet now, but his is a face the entire galaxy recognises. His is a voice they listen to. And I have watched him fight. The Blade must remain in the shadows for now, but a public symbol of resistance against Zarkon might be very useful indeed.” He selected a staff from the rack, and held it loosely in one hand, testing the weight of it. “Assuming the Champion is willing to play such a role, of course.”

“If he's anything like Shiro, I don't think he'd refuse.”

“He's been in the arena a long time, and the druids have been at him. Nothing can be guaranteed, but it might be worth taking the risk to try.” He spun without warning, sweeping the end of his staff at Keith's head.

Keith brought his arm up to protect his face, the weapon smacking into it with enough force to leave a bruise for days. He pressed his lips together, choking back a grunt of pain.

“Now,” Antok said. “Kolivan gave me an order, if you recall.”

“I do,” Keith said.

Keith knew Antok wouldn't enjoy the beating he was going to give him, but that was small comfort as he slid into a fighting stance, and drew his blade.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

It felt like hours had passed when Kolivan finally told Shiro he had answered enough questions. For now, at least. Shiro didn't take kindly to being interrogated, but he knew that if he couldn't convince the galra to help him his mission was probably going to fail.

He was tired and hungry, and half-expected to be thrown in a cell when the questioning was over. He even said as much once he’d been dismissed, standing in the doorway while Kolivan mused over the notes he'd been taking.

“It would be impossible for you to leave this place even if you tried,” Kolivan said. “Placing you in a cell would be entirely superfluous. Besides, we don't have any rooms that would be suitable; we are not in the habit of taking prisoners.”

“Aren't I lucky then,” Shiro said wearily. “Is there somewhere I could get something to eat?”

Kolivan gave him directions, and he followed them. Every time he passed a Blade they paused and watched him go, and he wondered if they wore their masks all the time or if this was a temporary security measure just for his benefit.

He found himself in a fairly pleasant if rather spartan living area, with a large observation deck overlooking the sun and several couches and chairs scattered about. There was a food dispenser in the wall, and Shiro supposed fresh food was too much to hope for this far from civilisation.

Too hungry to care, he was filling a plate with the stuff when he realised he wasn't alone.

Keith was sitting with his back to the darkened glass of the observation window, his legs stretched out in front of him. He was so still Shiro hadn’t noticed him at first.

“Hey,” Shiro said, approaching a bit uncertainly, plate in hand. This Keith wasn't his friend, but Shiro hoped he'd become one. He really wanted a friend in this universe. He was going to say more when he realised Keith's face was bruised, and his entire body was arranged slackly in an attitude that suggested exhaustion and pain.

“Hello,” Keith replied.

“Keith! What happened?” he knelt down beside him, his earlier thoughts of remaining at a distance forgotten, staring aghast at his face, setting his plate to the side but unsure what to do with his hands now they were free.

Keith looked amused, of all things, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. “Training. I've had worse.”

“You need medical attention.”

“It's not always possible to get any in the field. It's important to train your body to function even when injured.”

“It doesn't look like it's functioning now,” Shiro pointed out.

Keith moved like lightning, one hand closing around Shiro's throat, the other yanking his prosthetic, twisting it so Shiro couldn't get leverage.

“You were saying?” Keith’s eyes gleamed with triumph.

Shiro sagged in his grasp. “Keith. You don't have to prove anything to me. I saw you pass the trials here.”

“I took the trial?” Keith looked startled, and he released Shiro. “Even without Blade training? And you said I passed?” He was trying to ask casually, but Shiro could see through it.

“You did,” Shiro said, sitting down beside Keith and picking up his plate again. “Of course you did.”

Keith let him eat in silence, perhaps realising how hungry he was. Shiro cleaned his plate and fought back a yawn. Maybe he'd have a nap on one of these couches, if he could calm himself down enough to sleep.

“How did the talk with Kolivan go?” Keith asked, frowning, and Shiro wondered if he'd been worried about him.

“I don't know. He took a blood sample, but didn’t say why.”

“Antok says we can contact Ulaz, and he'll compare your biometrics to that of the Champion,” Keith said. “He seems to think rescuing him might be a good idea after all.”

Shiro frowned. He didn't want to think about the Champion too hard. This Keith was different; it would make sense that the Shiro here would be too. Maybe he liked being the Champion. The things the druids did to him, wouldn't it make sense that he'd eventually break? A dark version of himself sometimes haunted Shiro’s dreams, and it occurred to him that he might be meeting that individual in person soon enough. The expressionless face on the screen had told him nothing about the man behind it.

He could feel his heart beating faster as he thought back on his time in the arena, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, two, three.

“Shiro?” Keith looked uncertain.

“We need to be a bit careful,” Shiro said. “I was in his position for a while too.” He didn't want to talk about it, the words collecting in his throat, unspeakable.

“Ulaz seemed to think,” Keith began, and then paused. “Well, that was a while ago. If we can get in contact with him he can give us his opinion. He has access to the Champion occasionally.”

“Yes, I remember him. Look, the Black Lion is more important than I am. And so is Allura, if she's still alive. What happened? How did Zarkon get the Black Lion? What happened to the Castle of Lions?”

“I don't know what that is,” Keith said. “We don't know everything that Zarkon does. Even if we did, it’s not like any of us is told more than we need to know, in case we’re captured.” He sounded entirely matter-of-fact about it. “You should get some rest.”

“So should you,” Shiro retorted. “You need it more than me.”

Keith gingerly touched the bruises on his face. “Okay. I'll go to the medical room if you go to bed.”

“Deal.”

It was nice to see something approaching a smile on Keith's face.

Shiro couldn't honestly say he felt much better when he was woken up an unknowable length of time later by one of the masked Blades. The instant she shook his shoulder he was striking out, his heart pounding as he stared uncomprehending for a moment into her masked face. She’d stepped back before he could grab her, and didn't seem surprised by his instinct to lash out. Maybe all the Blades ended up in a similar state.

“Kolivan wishes to see you,” she said. “We've made contact with Ulaz.”

“Keith should be there too,” he said, before he was even awake enough to process exactly what she was talking about. He just knew he wanted Keith to remain a part of this.

“Kolivan didn't mention Keith.”

“He should be in medical,” Shiro said, trying to meet her eyes beyond her mask.

“I suppose there's no reason to keep it from him,” she said after waiting a beat. “If Kolivan doesn't want him there he'll say so.”

“Thank you.”

He got to his feet and stretched, trying to work all the kinks out of his back. The couches weren't all that bad, but he hadn't felt safe enough to take off his armour to sleep. The view of the sun through the observation window hadn’t changed so they must be in stationary orbit, and Shiro had lost all sense of how much time had passed.

The Blade paused. “Is it true, did you really pilot the Black Lion?”

Shiro nodded and she was gone, her feet making no noise.

The control room didn't have that many people in it, but with Kolivan and the other galra Shiro guessed was Antok in it it felt quite crowded, the three of them clustering around the control panel.

“We sent your data to Ulaz,” Kolivan said. “He'll contact us when he has a result, which should be soon.”

“I see.”

The door slid open, and Keith stepped in. His face was looking much better as he stood beside Shiro, his hands at his sides and his jaw slightly lifted as if daring someone to suggest he shouldn't be there.

Kolivan glanced at him and then back at the screen without comment, and Keith relaxed a fraction.

“Incoming connection,” Antok said and the screen brightened, and picture resolved itself into a rather blurry Ulaz, his face underlit by the screen in front of him. “We see you, Blade. Do you copy?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded scratchy over the connection, and the picture flickered somewhat; Shiro was just amazed they managed to get any picture at all, given the location of the headquarters, and he suspected Slav had a hand in technology. It was a relief to see Ulaz again, alive and safe, even though Shiro knew he wasn't exactly the same person. “The results are a match for the Champion’s data. What's going on?”

“We've been contacted by his counterpart from an alternative universe in which he pilots the Black Lion against Zarkon,” Kolivan said, unperturbed while Ulaz blinked in utter shock. “Or so he claims,” he added. “We're attempting to verify his story.”

“I understand,” Ulaz said, although he didn't sound entirely truthful. “What do you need me to do?”

“If I may,” Shiro said. At Kolivan's gesture of assent he went on. “Do you have access to the prisoner records? Is Princess Allura among them?”

“I'm not familiar with that name,” Ulaz said. “But prisoners are stripped of their identities.”

“She's Altean,” Shiro said. “If she's a prisoner they would have captured her at the same time as Zarkon obtained the Black Lion. She's got long white hair, and blue eyes and black skin-”

“Altean? Altea was destroyed ten thousand years ago.”

“She was in cryosleep in the Castle of Lions,” Shiro said, his hands curling into fists at his side. Please be alive, Princess. This universe needs you so badly, far more than it needs me.

Ulaz narrowed his eyes. “I don't know for certain, but there is a very high security prisoner who arrived around that time. The druids have them in cryosleep. It’s not unusual for them to preserve specimens of particular interest, so I paid it no particular attention.”

“What have they done to her?” Shiro asked.

“Nothing yet. The druids require the subject to be conscious.”

Shiro flexed his hand. “I remember,” he said quietly. “But that could be her. Is there any way to be certain?”

“I can’t risk poking my nose into their records, but I do recall some of the druids speculating about a specimen they thought might be able to beat the Champion in the arena, but Haggar was refusing to let them try.”

“If it is Allura they’d be right about that,” Shiro said.

“Find out what you can about this prisoner,” Kolivan said. “But don’t compromise your cover.”

“Understood.”

“Shiro has suggested we might need to rescue the Champion as a prelude to obtaining the Black Lion. Could you enact your original plan?”

“I’m afraid the window for that is closed,” Ulaz said. “The druids consider him their property now, and keep him under close surveillance. With all his upgrades, they keep him in a special reinforced apartment. Normal walls would no longer hold him.”

“How is he?” Shiro asked, a bit uncertainly. “I mean, if he’s given up, he might be unwilling to help us.”

Ulaz didn’t speak for a while. “Resigned,” he said eventually. “He still struggles when the druids work on him, but otherwise follows orders without argument. As Champion he could make certain requests, within reason, but as far as I know he has not availed himself of any of the luxuries offered to him.” The galra ran his hand over his head. “I wouldn’t have suggested rescuing him in the first instance if I didn’t think he was capable of seizing the opportunity offered. He is a strong individual. If we can rescue him, I believe we should.”

“You said the window had closed.”

“My plan was to sneak him out, but it’s almost impossible to get close to him. The druids oversee his medical treatment. The only other people he sees are his opponents in the arena.”

“How secure is the arena?” Keith asked.

“The crowd’s kept well away for their own safety,” Ulaz said.

“Not the crowd, what about _in_ the arena itself?”

“We will make that decision another time,” Kolivan said, holding his hand up to silence Keith. “We’ve talked too long as it is. Good work, Blade.”

Ulaz saluted and the screen went dark.

“Do you believe him now?” Keith asked. “He knew about that prisoner. That can’t just be a coincidence. That sort of information is so highly classified even Ulaz only knew about it because of gossip.”

“I think we’d be foolish to discount this, given the circumstantial evidence,” Kolivan said. “Although it remains circumstantial. What we must determine is how we should act upon it.”

“Keith’s right,” Antok said. “The arena is where security will be weakest. Out of the grasp of the druids, the Champion follows orders; they won’t be expecting an escape attempt. There has to be a weak point somewhere, and this is something we can research without a great deal of risk.”

“And then what? We can’t do anything without the Champion’s cooperation. How do you intend to inform him? I will not risk Ulaz’s position for this; he is one our most valuable agents. The Champion remains an unknown quantity, as the human himself has stated.”

“Ulaz said it himself,” Keith said. “The only other people the Champion meets are his opponents in the arena.” He jabbed his thumb at his own chest, “You’ve got two wanted criminals right here. We can fight our way through to him and then help him fight his way out.”

“ _ That’s  _ your plan?” Kolivan asked.

“You wanted him as a figurehead, to bolster the rebellion. What better way to do that than broadcast live across the galaxy?”

“Keith, the arena as-” Shiro began, horrified at the thought of seeing Keith thrown into that pit, and only marginally less horrified at the thought of going back there himself.

“I know what it is. I watch it myself, don’t I?” He looked at Kolivan. “I can do this.”

“And what does Shiro think?”

“If anyone has to do this, I should do it alone,” Shiro said. “I’ve been there before.”

“He would flatten you,” Keith declared, and the galra nodded in agreement.

“The Blade of Marmora survives in the shadows,” Kolivan said. “If you do this, Keith, you will be stepping into the light. This will change things for you; you won’t be able to remain as you once were.”

“You’re going to let him do this?” Shiro asked.

“Keith has always been free to choose his own path. But we can do nothing until we have gathered more information. In the meantime, I suggest you both train. If you’re to survive the arena, it would be best if you learned to fight well together.”

Keith saluted.

Shiro shook his head. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. He followed Keith out, watching him. He looked so young and confident but he’d remembered how bruised he’d been earlier, how his heart had twisted at the sight.

He had no illusions about getting through the arena unscathed; he had more than enough scars to prove that even the Champion suffered there.

“If you die because of me,” he began.

“Because of you? Don’t flatter yourself. This is my decision.” Keith didn’t even look back at him.

Shiro lengthened his stride to catch up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Keith, stop. What do you think you’re doing? Didn’t you hear what Kolivan said about the Blades?”

Keith’s expression was bitter but determined. “Maybe I was never cut out to be a Blade, not really. I can do it, but it’s not what I’m meant to do. This might be my only chance; I’m going to be a Paladin of Voltron.” His eyes blazed.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

“There are three kinds of competitors,” Keith explained. “Prisoners of war, like the Champion, who will fight until they die, criminals, who can earn their freedom if they fight well enough, and volunteers, usually members of Zarkon's armies trying to impress their superiors, but also a smattering of bloodthirsty civilians to liven things up. Convicted criminals end up in labour camps, especially if they're aliens, so the arena can look like a much softer option, especially if, like me, you're facing multiple counts of murder.”

“I see.”

“Win enough fights and you get an automatic pardon, but often by the time someone makes it that far they stay on in the arena voluntarily. There's good money to be made at the higher levels, but we'll be starting at the bottom.”

“Then we'd best not waste any time.”

The training was more difficult than Shiro had expected, and not because of their opponents. It hurt at first to see how little Keith trusted Shiro to have his back, how badly they worked together. The Blades had to beat it into him, forcing them to rely on each other; they had no other choice if they were to survive long enough to meet the Champion.

Getting captured in Keith's aging freighter was no challenge, and their pursuers didn't even seem surprised when Keith declared they wanted to exercise their right to avoid justice in the arena.

Those first arena fights were nothing much like the ones Shiro had experienced as a prisoner of Zarkon. For a start, they were hugely chaotic as large numbers of prisoners were herded into the pits to thump each other just to thin out their numbers. Surviving losers were carted off to face galra justice, and no one paid a couple of scrappy aliens much attention in the melee. He and Keith were allowed in the same cell with half a dozen others, and they slept back-to-back on the same patch of floor.

Shiro overhead some of the other prisoners discussing them; they assumed they were a mated pair. Shiro didn't pass this information on to Keith, and if he discovered it himself independently he didn't mention it either, but Shiro decided he didn't really mind the assumption. It was a useful story to tell, he thought. It meant they were unlikely to be separated or asked to fight each other, as pair teams weren't uncommon. He probably should mention it to Keith, just to get their story straight, but it never seemed to be the right time to broach the subject.

Unfamiliar as the other prisoners were with humans, they didn't even seem to notice Shiro's resemblance to the Champion, and Shiro realised rather shamefully he had trouble telling members of certain other species apart himself. It meant he didn't have to keep his helmet on all the time, at least. Criminals were allowed to keep the clothes and weapons they were arrested in, to make the fights more interesting, and although Keith's galra rifle had long since run out of charge he still used it to bludgeon he way around the arena.

There was a certain rough camaraderie among the lower ranks of the prisoners, and deaths were few. It wasn't particularly pleasant but Shiro had experienced worse, and Keith remained stoic and determined. They didn't talk much, other than to assess each other's minor injuries, because they never knew who was listening in. There were cameras everywhere.

They both hid their level of talent, doing well enough to avoid losing but nothing more; Shiro's hand remained unpowered within his glove, and Keith did not spin and leap off the walls in the way Shiro knew he was capable of doing.

They had access to television in their cells, but only one show was ever broadcast; the arena fights themselves, which were fought live on a couple of channels constantly, as an entire galaxy provided more than enough fodder. Shiro only paid attention when the Champion fought, and he wasn't the only one. When the Champion was on screen the prisoners would cluster around to cheer on the fighters, taking as much pleasure as those who'd paid to be in the stands.

Shiro felt only dread. The Champion's hand could come apart at the joints, but he retained complete control over the curving talons, grabbing opponents from halfway across the arena, flinging them into the walls. Shiro could recognise, under it all, his own moves, the way the Champion never took his superiority for granted, his reluctance to outright kill his opponents, his blank expression when he won yet again and saluted the cheering crowd.

It made him sick.

It also made him scared. He couldn't convince himself that he wasn't going to freeze up, and the Champion would snap him in half. Or snap Keith in half, because Keith wasn't going to freeze up, he was going to fight. Shiro could sense how eager he was to test himself against the Champion.

They were moving up in the ranks, and the fights grew more serious. These were the criminals who couldn't afford to lose, and it was at this point that the contest was actually broadcast, as the fights were now getting seriously bloody; a spectacle that had started drawing crowds to the various arenas they fought in. Shiro had to work harder, and he took to trying to disarm his opponents and use their weapons against them; he couldn't afford to use his prosthetic and possibly tip the galra off as to who he was.

Sometimes he forgot why he was there; it was as if the past six months hadn't ever happened and he'd been stuck in the arena this entire time. Voltron, reuniting with Keith, the Lions and all they'd been through since might have been nothing but a delirium after taking one too many hits on the head.

In those moments he'd look for Keith, who was never far from him, and be reminded that this was all for a purpose. Keith, in his cap and jacket, his expression grim but determined most of the time, although there was a faint smirk of triumph too, when their opponents had been particularly vicious. Keith enjoyed this, to a certain extent. He'd walked into it, never experienced it as something other than a free choice, and saw it as a chance to demonstrate his skills and hone them. He didn’t know what it was like to expect to die here.

They had their own cell now, and they discussed tactics and upcoming opponents as they eased bruised limbs and bandaged each other’s cuts and scrapes. They didn't need to sleep back-to-back any more, and Shiro missed Keith's warmth.

He also missed the other Keith. Sometimes he'd watch him and try to find points of difference, scared he'd forget the Keith of his own universe. He deserved better than to be replaced.

Earning their freedom came as something of a shock. One day they were in their pen, and the next, after a gruelling fight against a cybernetically enhanced galra who’d been caught selling military hardware on the sly and his bizarre alien pet, the bars fell away and they were pinned in the spotlight, asked breathlessly by an announcer what their decision was.

Shiro could almost understand why people chose to stay. The crowd was cheering for them, cheering for them to stay and entertain them further, win money and prestige beyond the dreams of ordinary smugglers and space pirates. You're already a little bit famous, why not stay and become a little bit more?

“We’re doing it for the fun of it,” Keith said, a mad, wide grin on his face, his eyes shadowed by the cap he wore. Shiro remained silent, his face mostly obscured by his helmet, standing close behind him. “No way we're quitting now. We're heading for the top of the leader board!”

The announcer beamed, delighted by such an eloquent and enthusiastic response, and the crowd howled.

“Are you ready to be rich and famous?” Ostensibly she was talking to them but she was really addressing the crowd, just an indistinct, seething mass beyond the lights. It roared at her words. “Or dead!” she added gleefully, the little lights on her jacket winking as she moved, and the crowd cheered louder. They didn't care which it was.

Shiro took a deep breath. They had the option of walking away free now; they'd earned their pardons, when so few did. It made it all the harder to stay where they were, to turn their back on the open door and return to the pit.

First they were flown back to Marmora. Sheith had sort of forgotten where they were; there were arenas all across the galaxy and as prisoners they'd had no chance to go outside. Now they had no reason to; everything was provided for them, up to a point, and they'd decided walking around in public was too much of a security risk. They could buy weapons and better medical equipment, and they were put up in a rather bare apartment space that they didn't bother to pay to upgrade. They weren't planning on staying there long.

“Eight decisive victories should give us the opportunity to challenge the Champion,” Keith said. “We're so close.”

Shiro stood at their window gazing up at the pale purple sky, cloudless but the atmosphere thick with the exhalations of the planet-sized city, the lights at the top of the buildings haloed in haze. He'd tried so hard to get away from here, and now he was back. He focused on his faint reflection in the glass and narrowed his eyes.

“We don't have to beat him, remember,” Keith said. “We just have to get him on our side.”

“If he agrees,” Shiro said.

“Why wouldn't he agree? Who'd want to live like this?” Keith shrugged.

Shiro didn't explain, couldn't explain. He trusted Keith, but he couldn't quite trust himself.

The fights were spectacles now, the arenas full of obstacles and props and different terrain to provide more interesting challenges. They had traps in them too, as Shiro discovered when a bridge broke under him, sending him plummeting, and forcing him to use his jetpack. He was just relieved it was him rather than Keith, who had no such hardware.

The enemies were harder too; galra special forces out to get revenge on the criminal who'd killed a dozen soldiers and who had the temerity to stay and fight, blood-crazed civilians with strange modifications and outlandish weapons, and worst of all, druid-enhanced prisoners who fought with the utter desperation Shiro remembered in himself.

He hated those fights. He wanted to be gentle, but he couldn't afford to be. With nothing to lose they were the most dangerous opponents, and the druid's enhancements were often unpredictable.

Keith knew by now a few of the details of Shiro's time in the arena, and he always volunteered to finish those fights for him, but it made little difference. He could never sleep after those fights, and he knew better than to try. Keith often stayed up with him, for a little while at least, until he started to nod off and apologetically retreated to his room.

“It's a mercy,” Keith said. “They won't suffer any more.”

Shiro didn't reply, still replaying the fight in his mind. She'd been so fast, so tough. He wondered what act of defiance had brought her there, her neck and torso bulging with corrupted quintessence.

“We will end Zarkon's empire, I swear it,” Keith tried again. “If the Champion doesn't want to help, I'll make him change his mind.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through all of this,” Shiro said.

“I'm not,” Keith said. “I feel like I was sheltered by the Blade, even with all the training. We live apart from the Empire. We're free, in our small way. To be embedded inside it like this is something entirely different. I understand why we fight in a way I didn't before. This isn't about being a Blade, or proving myself as a galra. Those were selfish reasons to fight; was I any better than the others in the arena?”

“Keith, you've never hurt someone just for your own entertainment. You're nothing like them.”

Keith rested his bruised cheek against the window. They preferred to sit by it than in front of the television, and the purple glow from the sky gave Keith's features a galra cast. “I think you're a better person than I am,” Keith said. “I never thought I'd think that about a human. I wonder what he's like.”

“Who?”

“The Champion.”

“I guess we'll find out soon enough.”

Their fight was looming ever closer, and they had to trust the Blades would be ready when it was announced. The Champion's fights were always advertised well in advance, and Shiro wasn't too worried about that. The Blades would come through.

Shiro managed to keep the true nature of his prosthetic a secret, but only just. It had saved his life a couple of times as he’d used its almost indestructible skin to block otherwise lethal attacks, and he’d been tempted more than once to power it up and end a fight, but had resisted.

They’d need the element of surprise. They’d need everything they had, as the day of the final fight arrived, and Shiro braced himself to meet the man he might have become.

The arena was always reconfigured specially for the Champion, and Shiro and Keith stood beside each other on the platform that raised them up into the arena floor, necks craned to see what they’d have to contend with.

They were under an open sky and a warm, humid wind, like the breath of some vast giant, ruffled Keith's hair as he pulled his cap down more firmly. The purple clouds swirled above them and it looked like it might rain. From the floor of the arena tall spires of twisted metal and precarious crossbeams like a bombed out tower block rose several stories into the sky.

“They'll give us some cover,” Keith muttered as he squinted up at them.

“If he pulls us off one of those we’d break our necks.”

Tiny camera drones buzzed around them like flies, but they were both used to them by now and ignored them. As they rose out of the floor, they both looked across to where their enemy waited.

The Champion stood silently, his smouldering hand down by his side, too distant for his expression to be read. Shiro wondered if he knew his opponents would be human, if he’d fought his own species before.

Shiro had fought in rags, but they’d given the Champion proper clothes, a galra-style suit and a cloak purely for drama, the latter designed to shred at the slightest touch so it wouldn’t hinder him. It was already starting to fray in the wind that whipped it about his broad silhouette.

The crowd sighed with delight as the Champion saluted, and the announcer declared in echoing tones that bounced around and lost themselves in the weird architecture of the arena, that it was time to fight.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Keith was off and running. Although he knew he wasn't his strongest at range, he accepted that Shiro would probably be a better choice going hand to hand with the Champion.

His heart was pounding with excitement. Despite all the risks, despite the gruelling fights that had preceded this one, fighting the Champion was something he had to admit he'd been looking forward to. He'd always wondered how he'd do against him.

He hadn't shared these thoughts with Shiro, because he clearly was feeling the opposite. Whenever the topic had come up he'd get that quiet, worried look on his face, but he wouldn't talk about it.

Keith thought he'd probably open up more to that _other_ Keith, the one Shiro kept silently comparing him to, but he wasn't that guy and never would be. Even if he kind of envied him sometimes; something else he had no intention of sharing with Shiro.

Whatever Shiro had been afraid of, it wasn't stopping him from entering the fray. He ran in directly towards the Champion, as Keith circled around, laying down covering fire. The Champion lifted his hand to block the shots, the glowing palm absorbing the energy effortlessly.

When Shiro got within range the Champion made a grab for him and Shiro leaped out of the way, anticipating the move. For now, Shiro had the advantage, but the Champion would quickly learn how well Shiro knew his moves. It wouldn't last long and so Shiro went for him with single-minded determination while the crowd bayed with delight.

Keith scrambled up one of the metal spars, hoping to close the distance without being spotted. He couldn't shoot now without risking hitting Shiro. Instead all he could do was watch as the Champion humoured him for a while, and they sparred and punched. Shiro was going to try and get the message through to him, but Keith could see he couldn’t get close enough with that hand constantly reaching out for him.

It was quite a fight though. No wonder the crowd was stirred up; it was rare to see the Champion brought to a standstill, and Keith couldn't tear his eyes away as Shiro grimly held his own, darting around, trying to use the metal spars to block some of the Champion's attacks, looking for a weak point.

And then without warning the Champion turned and yanked a huge piece of metal off the structure behind him and threw it over Shiro’s head at Keith.

Keith was sure he'd been forgotten, or at least discounted, and he scrambled to dodge the missile, leaping from his perch and reaching for one of the crossbeams, not keen to be brought down to ground level just yet.

He caught the metal edge one-handed, his rifle still in his other arm, the edge biting into his palm through his glove as he swung there for a moment, deciding where to go next before starting to haul himself to safety.

The Champion hadn't waited to see where the missile landed, instead taking advantage of Shiro's momentary distraction to go on the attack. Shiro slammed his arms down to protect his midsection as the Champion used his left hand to punch him off his feet, getting him out of the way so he could go after Keith again.

Keith was still dangling by one arm, his other hand still holding his rifle as he swung his legs to build up momentum to vault somewhere safer, but he was out of time. The Champion's hand cracked apart, leaking purple light as his talons shot out towards Keith. He had several options and none of them were good; he didn't want to lose the rifle, but he needed his other hand.

He was just about to drop down when Shiro flipped to his feet, his prosthetic hand flaring purple as he finally powered it up and _punched_ the Champion’s glowing hand as it shot past.

Keith didn’t know what happened next. One moment the Champion’s curving talons were reaching for him, and the next a shock wave tore the metal beam from his grasp as a great burst of purple light obscured the other two combatants for a moment, and he landed heavily on the ground, rolling to absorb the impact.

He could smell ozone, and as he blinked away the after-images of the flash, running half-blinded so he wouldn’t be a stationary target, he saw both Shiro and the Champion on the ground, both apparently knocked off their feet. Shiro was clutching his arm and struggling to rise, and the Champion’s fist had lost its glow, the Champion was flexing the talons and watching Shiro in surprise.

Now, Keith thought, now is my chance. Shiro had told him to keep his distance; he didn’t have armour or the insider knowledge, but he was fast and quick and he was a Blade and he’d studied the Champion ever since he’d appeared and he was running in anyway because this was their best shot so far.

He held his fire, changing his grip on the gun to better swing it defensively as the Champion looked at him with Shiro’s face.

The Champion swung his fist. Even unpowered it was a vicious weapon and Keith blocked with his gun, reeling under the force the Champion brought to bear, knocked slightly off course as he staggered to keep his footing but he didn’t retreat; he could see the glow starting to come back. They wouldn’t get another shot.

He was leaving himself open getting so close. He didn’t know how he could retreat again once he was within the arc of that terrible arm as the Champion loomed over him. He had to trust this human wouldn’t kill him, that he would hear him out first.

The Champion lashed out with his left hand, and Keith’s head rang as he clobbered him across the ear, his cap tumbling to the ground unheeded, but he was right there, in the shadow of him, could smell the hot metal of his arm and see the scars on his face.

“Shiro!” His voice was weak; he hadn't had time to get his breath back since his fall, but there it was. He saw a fractional hesitation, the Champion's eyes widening in surprise. “We’re here to rescue you,” Keith said, pleaded as the talons wrapped around his rifle and crushed the barrel and battery in a shower of sparks. The Champion’s eyes never left Keith’s face and he could see there was some great and terrible hope rising in them, even as his brows knitted in confusion.

“Fake it,” Keith said, and the Champion lifted him off his feet and slammed him down into the ground.

But he didn’t follow through. Keith was winded anyway, but he smiled up at the Champion, a great sense of relief flooding through him to know this breath wouldn't be his last, that the hand at his throat wouldn't punch right through it.

“Who are you?” the Champion breathed, his fist still bunched in Keith’s shirt.

Keith saw movement in the corner of his eye. “Look out!”

Shiro was coming to rescue him, hand glowing, and the Champion picked him up and threw him at Shiro, but it was practically a gentle toss, given what he was capable of, and they tumbled down together.

“Keith! Are you okay?”

“We got him!” Keith said, disentangling himself and scrambling to his feet. “Time to go.”

“What, really?” Shiro asked, and Keith realised he hadn't quite believed this would work at all, that his counterpart would want to free himself. He'd come here prepared to have to commit a sort of suicide.

The Champion was waiting for them, flexing his talons, but Keith could see his attention was now divided, not wholly focused on them, reassessing the battlefield.

Time for the signal. All the cameras would be on them, and the Blades would be watching as Keith extended his hand with his thumb raised. Apparently it was a human sign. Shiro had explained that it meant, for no reason Keith could think of, both approval and the request for a lift.

Shiro copied him, still looking wary, but after a moment, the Champion did as well.

For a few moments, everyone waited. The crowd puzzled, the announcer silent, and Keith’s heart thudding in his chest as he feared something had gone wrong.

There was a muffled thump and a screech and the platform they'd rode up on started to drop. As one they turned and ran for the ever-widening gap in the floor. Keith felt a grin stretch his face as he swatted one of the camera drones out of his way; he'd been waiting a while for the chance to do that.

Keith got there first and he dived through, landing in a crouch, holding his ruined rifle like a club. Arrayed on the floor were several semi-concious galra, their uniforms that of arena security.

“You!” the Champion said as he jumped down, addressing Ulaz, who was working the controls of the platform.

“Hello.” Ulaz said. “The druids will be here soon. I've got transportation outside.”

The Champion hesitated, looking down at the bodies, and then nodded. “Let's go.”

The three of them followed Ulaz, who clearly had a plan as he led them deeper into the complex, past STAFF ONLY doors into a warren of access-ways for support infrastructure.

“Why are you here?” Keith asked Ulaz as they ran down a series of corridors. “This is going to blow your cover.” A couple of techs with squawking radios rounded a corner in front of them, took one look at the group barrelling towards them and turned and ran the other way, one of them pausing to take a photo before they scrambled through a side-door.

“I was on borrowed time anyway,” Ulaz said. “Poking my nose into the druid's business while investigating that prisoner had tipped them off. They've been watching me for days now.” A door opened on his left and he slammed it shut in the face of whoever was on the other side. “Nearly there.”

They ran into a loading bay, which was fairly full due to the large event on above, and Keith gazed at the row of vehicles, assessing them. They wouldn't get far in a catering van.

“Left!” Ulaz said. “The one on the end. I gave it high level military clearance. We should be off-world before they think to revoke it. Keith, you fly it.”

“Got it,” Keith said, already running.

Keith felt the hairs on the back on his neck stand up, and he turned to see several druids appear out of thin air in the hallway behind them.

“Quiznak!” He tossed the rifle and drew his blade; there was no reason to hide it now, and he saw Ulaz do the same.

“You need to pilot them out,” Ulaz said. “Go!” He drew a grenade from his belt, and hurled it at the druids, driving them back into the hallway for a few moments as Ulaz strode forward. “I always wanted to go out with a bang,” he said, his long face pulled into a rare smile.

“Understood,” Keith said, turning away again.

“No!” Shiro roared, and his hand lit up as he slid into a fighting stance. “No one stays behind.”

What the hell was he doing? They needed to get away. The explosion rocked the loading bay and ruined the hallway, but the druids floated back out of it, hands raised as they gathered their reserves of quintessence.

How are we supposed to fight that, Keith wondered, torn between his training, which told him to obey Ulaz, and Shiro, who'd picked up Ulaz's discarded rifle and was trying to force the druids to take cover in the hallway again. The Champion hesitated also, Keith meeting his confused gaze.

“Go on,” he said. “Get the ship, Keith.” He hesitated a moment before trying out the name, as if he wasn't quite sure he was allowed to use it.

Keith nodded and reluctantly turned away.

“Stop!” the Champion called, and even the druids seemed to pause. “Duck,” he said quietly, and his glowing hand shot out and seized the nose of a small delivery vehicle, the metal crinkling under his talons as he picked it up and hurled it at the druids. Ulaz and Shiro flung themselves flat as it sailed over them and the vehicle's fuel tank ruptured as it landed, sending burning globs of fuel splattering across the floor.

He'd caught one of the druids square on and it didn't even shriek. The others had teleported away, and one of them appeared in front of Keith. He struck out with his blade, and it dodged, moving like no opponent he'd ever faced before.

The fight was losing its coherency; the fire threatening to spread to the other vehicles, and the sound of sirens from outside meant their window of escape was closing. The druids seemed to be content to buy time, letting the escapees exhaust themselves defending. They probably know they can't easily contain the Champion without help, Keith thought.

Ulaz had another grenade in one hand but he was hesitating to throw it as the druids didn't stand still long enough to give him an opening. The Champion went after them, but they kept well back from his hand, disappearing whenever he managed to get close.

We're so close, Keith thought. So close and so far. We just need to ground them for a moment, stop them flitting about like that so we can retaliate.

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, and both Shiro and the Champion looked at him. When he had their attention Keith slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand.

Shiro nodded, and the Champion's grin looked deeply strange on his face, but they'd clearly got the message.

Shiro's hand flared and the Champion spread his talons as they ran at each other. Keith crouched and closed his eyes as they swung their prosthetics against each other and the intact vehicles rocked on their suspension as the blast wave rippled across the loading bay, the explosion punching Shiro and the Champion about six feet in opposite directions. They were both anticipating it this time, and landed skidding on their feet, their right hands dull and lifeless.

The druids landed on their feet too, but between their hands they couldn't summon so much as a spark, and now they wouldn't be able to teleport away. Keith grinned. Payback.

Keith attacked with his blade and the druid dodged swiftly but not fast enough as he uncoiled like a spring, drove it into the creature's midsection, pulled it free, and punched the druid aside with his other hand. He saw another druid go flying over his head and he suspected that was the Champion's doing. He could hear Shiro's rifle as he sprinted for the ship.

The door opened at his touch and he practically fell into the pilot's seat, flipping switches and summoning power from the engines as the others clattered in behind him.

“Everyone aboard?” Keith asked.

“Go!” Ulaz said, hanging out of the door, his eyes narrowed against the slipstream as Keith spun the ship around and headed for the mouth of the loading bay. Security forces were already starting to gather, and Ulaz tossed his grenade as they soared over them, and slammed the door shut.

The ship was a very small one, not much bigger than the fighters Keith was used to flying, and Keith's passengers crowded awkwardly into the space behind him. They remained silent so as not to distract him, but he could sense the atmosphere thickening with unspoken thoughts and unasked questions.

He thought he could sense the Champion watching him, and he wasn't quite game to glance back and check, just in case it was wishful thinking. He was going to get them out of there regardless, it wasn't like he was showing off as he wove among the towers of Marmora, their flickering reflection chasing them in the windows of the buildings, but he was pretty damn good at this.

He might have been showing off. Just slightly.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

Keith soon forgot about the Champion as he had to concentrate on keeping them all alive. He'd never had an entire planet out to get him before, and he wasn't very familiar with Marmora to start with. The shape of the planet was bizarre; whenever he thought he was clear, there was more of it surging out of the glowing sky.

The military clearance Ulaz had given the ship had been revoked much faster than Keith had hoped it would be, and swarms of fighters erupted from the military bases on Marmora's surface to intercept them as he did his best to lose them among the dizzying towers and delicate walkways strung above the surface. There was some risk to civilians but not too much; the galra built their buildings tough enough to withstand a bit of laser fire.

A battle-cruiser was heaving out of dock in their wake by the time Keith was fleeing for open space, which was genuinely terrifying when he stopped to think about it, but the large numbers of civilian ships meant it couldn't pick up any speed until it was clear of Marmora's orbit.

Even so it fired up its laser cannon, obliterating a large, innocent cargo vessel and several satellites as Keith flung the ship about the sky.

“I think we made them angry,” Shiro said.

“We stole their Champion,” Ulaz said, looking as pleased as Keith had ever seen him. It didn't look like he was going to miss his old job. “And on live television too. I hate to think how many people are going to be executed for this security breach.”

Ulaz had planned this part of their escape well, and they switched ships at an unmanned refuelling station, Keith setting up the autopilot on their abandoned ship to lead their pursuers away before joining the others in the new one. It another unremarkable civilian vessel, but one far more capable of evading pursuit than Keith's old ship.

Ulaz was at the helm when Keith joined the others and he pulled away from the fuel station as soon as the airlock had sealed at Keith’s heels. They rocketed out of Marmoras' system, and Keith felt his heartbeat begin to slow as the immediate danger faded.

“I'll send a message to HQ once we're further away,” Ulaz said. “The Empire will be monitoring all communications closely in this sector for a while, and the encryption will look suspicious.” He spun the pilot's chair around to face the others. “Not that it matters too much. Our success will be all over the news. Well done.”

Ulaz was one of the Blades' most experienced operatives, and under other circumstances praise from him would have buoyed Keith's mood for a week, but all he could feel was kind of numb disbelief that it was actually over, that he didn't have go to back to that apartment and prepare for their next fight.

It would take a while for it all to sink in, he thought, but he suspected his sense of dislocation was nothing compared to what the Champion was going through.

There was enough space for them all to sit, and the Champion was slumped on a bench, still slightly wide-eyed. He visibly rallied himself to speak.

“I owe all of you my thanks,” the Champion said. “No, my life. Whoever you are.” He looked at them each in turn, finally turning his gaze on Shiro, a frown on his face as he regarded Shiro oddly. “My name is Takashi Shirogane,” he said.

Shiro lifted his hands and took his helmet off. “Likewise,” he said. The humans stared at each other for a long moment, the Champion utterly bemused, and Shiro just waiting, watching his reaction. Eventually Shiro seemed to realise it was up to him to explain, and he added. “This is going to sound strange, but I'm from an alternate universe, one in which Ulaz here,” he nodded. “Rescued me from the arena. I never got the chance to thank him.” He looked at Ulaz. “You saved me, and then later you gave your life to save me and the other paladins. I couldn't let you sacrifice yourself again.”

“The Blades do what's needed,” Ulaz said. “I’m sure my alternate self had no regrets. But I am grateful for your help back there. I certainly didn't wish to die.” Keith knew tactically it was a bad call with the Champion still untested, and that if it had been him Kolivan would have dressed him down afterwards, but Ulaz was tactful enough to let it slide. Humans did things differently, and this time they’d got away with it.

“This feels like a dream,” the Champion said. “I’ve dreamt of escape, of rescue, so many times.” He looked at Shiro's hand. “My hand was like yours once. They kept tinkering with it to make it more powerful.” He flexed his armoured fist. “I like the streamlined look better.”

“Yours has its uses.”

The Champion looked at Keith. “Are you from an alternate universe as well?”

“No,” Keith said. “This is my universe.”

“How did you get out in space? Did the galra capture you?”

“I wasn't born on your planet,” Keith said. “I’ve always been in space.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You're an alien?”

“I'm galra. I mean, I am part human too.” Faced with the Champion, it wasn't as hard to admit to as it usually was; it didn't seem like such a handicap. He kept talking, feeling inexplicably self-conscious as the Champion looked him up and down, presumably searching for galra features. “What should we call you? It would get confusing if you're both Shiro.”

“Takashi is fine,” the Champion said. He looked back at Shiro, “But how did you get here from a whole other universe?”

“There's a lot we need to explain,” Shiro said.

“I too am curious,” Ulaz said. “About the Black Lion, especially.”

“That weird spaceship Zarkon's always flying on television?” Takashi asked.

“It's more than a ship,” Shiro said. “I'll start at the beginning; we've got some time.”

Keith already knew this story and he turned his attention to the communications and radar, Ulaz vacating the pilot's seat so Keith could keep an eye on the autopilot.

And he did keep an eye on it, more or less, but it hardly needed constant attention and so for much of the time he watched Takashi. He'd noticed the differences between him and Shiro first because they were the obvious things; the scars, the long, mostly-white hair, and the armoured talons on his hand, but it was when he looked more closely that he realised they were the same person.

Not quite the same person. They were both polite and apparently eager to get on with whatever needed doing, but Takashi didn't hold any of Shiro's self-confidence, and he didn't look at Keith like he already knew him, although he looked at Keith a lot.

More than once Keith glanced back from the radar to meet Takashi's grey eyes. He was still listening to Shiro, but he divided his attention between them, and when Keith met his eyes he'd smile cautiously. He didn't know what to make of him, and to Keith it felt a relief to be an unknown quantity. With Shiro he kept being caught slightly off guard, but Takashi would see him only as he chose to present himself, and wouldn’t be constantly comparing him to his counterpart.

“They wanted to put me in quarantine, but Keith rescued me with some of his friends- I mean, the Keith from my universe,” Shiro explained, at Takashi's curious look. “We met at the garrison. We were friends. We are friends.”

Yeah right, Keith thought. Shiro was a nice, likeable person, and the way he talked about his fellow paladins they were clearly his friends as well. But they weren't the ones he was thinking about when he regarded Keith with such sad eyes whenever he thought Keith wasn't looking. They'd shared a living space for weeks; Shiro already thought he knew a lot about Keith, but Keith had picked up quite a bit about Shiro by now as well, and one thing he'd learned was that Shiro's Keith was the person he missed most.

He's too honest to be anything but in denial, Keith thought, and wondered if his counterpart had noticed before Shiro had left.

Ulaz seemed to find this part only of minor interest, but he leaned forward again, his elbows on his knees, when Shiro started talking about the Castle of Lions.

“This tallies with what I was able to find out about the Lions in this universe,” Ulaz said. “Zarkon didn’t get the Black Lion until he’d located all the others. He’s kept how they work and where they come from very secret, even from the druids much to their annoyance. Certainly, all talk of Voltron has been long suppressed. I did some digging but all I could find were myths. Heavily discouraged ones.” He stroked his chin with his fingers. “How marvellous that we might get to see this being for ourselves.”

“You rescued me for a reason, didn’t you?” Takashi said.

“The Lion chooses the pilot,” Shiro said. “I think, I hope, the Black Lion might be able to send me home, but she needs a pilot in this universe too, especially if we're to defeat Zarkon here.”

Takashi heaved a sigh and tilted his head back, “I’d been looking forward to going home, but Zarkon must be stopped. Earth won't be safe until he is. If you say Voltron is the way to do that, then you can count me in.” He looked at Shiro. “Although I suppose you knew I was going to say that.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, it was clear from Shiro’s expression that he _hadn’t_ been entirely confident, and Takashi recoiled slightly before a deeply awkward silence fell.

Keith felt sorry for them both. As weird as it was meeting the doppelganger of someone close to you, meeting yourself had to be unfathomably more discomforting.

“We need to get the Black Lion as soon as possible,” Keith said. “And the other Lions. I don’t intend to let you have all the fun.”

“Right,” Shiro seized on the change of topic like a drowning man clutching a life-raft. “We need to locate the Black Lion. Luckily, Zarkon won’t expect us to be coming for it.”

“This is true,” Ulaz said. “On the outside, what we did today appeared to be two humans rescuing a third. A daring escape, and one the authorities will not like, but nothing Zarkon is likely to worry about personally.”

“So where is it? Is it in this Castle?” Takashi asked.

They looked at Ulaz.

“It goes where Zarkon does. As far as I can tell the other four Lions are kept apart, in the hangars of four separate battleships. It’s all classified, but it’s very hard to keep objects that big a complete secret on an active battleship.”

“We need to get Black first,” Shiro said. “If we go after one of the others it’ll tip him off. We just need to locate Zarkon then.”

“Thace will be able to help us.”

Keith grinned. He’d always admired Thace; the operative seemed to live both a charmed and eventful life, and Keith had always wanted to go on a mission with him.

“Should I send a message to HQ then?” he asked.

“I think it’s safe enough to do so,” Ulaz said. “We’ll all need to be debriefed, and the three of you should take some time to recover before our next mission. We’ll only get one shot at it, so we should take our time and go carefully.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Keith teased, feeling giddy with success and the possibilities that stretch out ahead of them.

Ulaz clenched his fists. “To get my hands on real Atlean technology, to see it for myself, without having to dig around in whatever scraps the druids deign to throw out; I am willing to be patient to give myself that chance.”

Keith expected he would utterly unable to relax, but once Ulaz took over the controls again he slumped in the nearest seat and practically passed out, Shiro having to shake him awake to tell him they’d made it safely back to the Blades’ Headquarters.

Only a couple of dozen Blades were actually posted to HQ at any one time, and practically all of them turned out to see the Champion. Takashi looked about him with great interest.

“It’s so nice to see a place that’s new,” he murmured, as he followed Keith and Shiro past the impromptu welcoming committee.

Even Kolivan and Antok had come out of the command room to meet them, and Keith, Ulaz and Shiro saluted.

Kolivan looked at Ulaz. “I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon,” he said.

“I had to change my plans,” Ulaz said. “Shiro’s filled me in on Voltron and the Black Lion. I’ve got a few ideas about what our next step might be.”

“I’m sure you do,” Kolivan said heavily, and Keith bit his lip to keep from smiling, remembering he wasn't wearing his mask. “I’ll hear you out first then. The rest of you report to medical. Dismissed.” He paused. “And welcome, Champion.”

Several Blades accompanied them, less as a guard and more to tell them that they’d been watching the fights, and everyone seemed to have an opinion. They clustered around Takashi especially; to galra a warrior of his stature deserved respect.

Eventually Keith intervened. “I think he’s tired,” he said. “He is only a human, after all.”

Takashi gave him a wry smile, “Thanks, Keith.”

Once their old injuries had been assessed, Keith reported to Kolivan. This time he had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and he gave his report with his head held high.

“You didn’t disappoint us,” Kolivan said. “As I expected, your identity is now known to the Empire, and your time as an anonymous operative has come to an end. But I think you have ambitions for a different career, do you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get some rest. Ulaz wants to involve Thace in the next mission, and he’s always hard to get a hold of.”

Keith saluted and turned to go.

“Keith.” Kolivan paused. “Take pride in what you have achieved on this mission. Regardless of what happens next, soon people across the Empire will be waving their thumbs in defiance. Those that have thumbs.”

“What does it even mean, anyway?” Antok asked, making the gesture himself.

“Uh. It means approval,” Keith said. “And ‘could you give me a ride’?”

“Well, now it has a new meaning,” Kolivan said.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Of all the things Shiro had seen since he’d left Earth, Kolivan and Antok solemnly giving him a thumbs-up was probably one of the strangest. If he'd had a camera he would have photographed it; it would have made a nice souvenir of this universe to bring back to Keith when he returned. _If_ he returned, he reminded himself. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he'd escaped the arena for a second time, and the sheer relief that it had all gone mostly according to plan had left him feeling optimistic.

He might get to go home in the foreseeable future.

In the time they'd been away the Blades had managed to make some space for their guests, and Shiro was informed he had a room to himself if he wanted it.

“Unless you'd prefer to stay with the Champion,” the Blade said. “If that is the human way-”

“No,” Shiro said quickly. “I think we’d prefer to have our own rooms. And his name is Takashi,” he added. If he didn't know better he'd think these Blades were a bit star-struck, the way they hovered around his counterpart and seemed subtly disappointed when he'd left the medical room first, unless he was just projecting onto their expressionless masks.

Maybe he'd been a bit hard on Keith, in hindsight. It was weird to have another you in other people's minds.

Keith had slept for most of the trip back, but Shiro hadn't been able to take his eyes off Takashi, trying to fathom what sort of person he was. He'd been expecting maybe he'd be more brutal, or perhaps desperate, but he'd simply sat quietly and let things happen. Shiro wasn't even sure what he made of his story; he'd listened carefully, but hadn't ventured much of an opinion. He'd accepted too much without argument, and he remembered Ulaz saying he followed orders without complaint.

It was as if the druids hadn't broken him so much as hollowed him out, left something flimsier in his place.

I have to build him up, Shiro thought. He has to lead Voltron, he has to make decisions and keep the other paladins together, whoever they might be. He wondered then what Allura had made of them when she'd first assigned them their Lions. She'd been so forthright and encouraging, but from her perspective they couldn't have filled her with confidence. Shiro wasn't sure he was capable of being so supportive to his other self, but he had to try.

Shiro kept walking, even though he'd located his room. After being confined for so long it felt good to have the freedom to wander, even if he was occasionally confronted with doors that refused to open for him.

Even now, the Blades kept their secrets close. He'd considered putting his helmet on and going for a walk outside, but he'd probably have to find someone to ask permission before he could access an airlock, and the scenery outside, with the exception of the boiling flares emitted by the tortured sun, was bleak and uninteresting.

With limited places to go he found himself back in the living area. Takashi was sitting by the window staring out at the sun while a couple of Blades sprawled on one of the couches, conversing quietly and watching him. When Shiro entered they nodded, gave him a thumbs-up and left.

“I know I should be resting,” Takashi said. “But I'm so tired of being in small rooms, and it’s a novelty to have a window with an unfamiliar view.” He glanced at his hand. “Once they upgraded me, I couldn’t even have windows.”

“I doubt the Blades would object if you slept here,” Shiro said, approaching him. “But I can't sleep either; too much to think about.” He wasn't normally one for admitting it when he refused to sleep, but it seemed pointless to try and hide it from himself. Takashi looked as tired as he felt, a lock of long white hair falling across his face. Shiro had never grown his hair that long; Takashi's ponytail reached his shoulder-blades and Shiro wondered why he'd decided not to cut it. It was so strange, looking at him; Shiro saw his own face most often in the mirror, so the subtle asymmetries of Takashi’s face looked wrong in comparison.

“You fought your way up the entire roster to rescue me,” Takashi said, glancing at him for a moment and then looking back out the window. He shook his head. “It was a rash plan. So much could have gone wrong. I’m still amazed how much went right, in the end.”

Secretly Shiro was as well, but he found this pessimism after the fact annoying. No one had ever called him particularly rash, and to have his own self do so was unnerving. He wondered if he even _liked_ himself that much.

“We had no other choice. The druids kept too close for Ulaz to rescue you directly like he did for me in my universe.”

“No choice? I feel the Lions probably make do with what’s available. You said the other paladins hadn’t even graduated when you were taken into space.” He sighed. “I’m sure you would have found someone suitable in the end.”

“I wasn't going to leave you behind,” Shiro said. “Not when I knew what you were going through. I was the Champion as well, and I know I couldn’t have escaped alone; someone had to rescue me. And then I didn't get to spend twenty-four hours on Earth before everything else happened.” He wondered how long ago that was; he was guessing months, but it might have been longer. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added, feeling like he’d revealed too much. “I know I was very lucky. Am lucky.”

“So now you feel responsible for Voltron in two universes,” Takashi said with a wry twist of his lips that wasn’t really a smile. He'd been staring out the window, but he turned to look at Shiro. “Isn't that right?”

“It’ll be your responsibility soon,” Shiro prodded. “I know you have it in you.”

“Yes. You’re living proof, after all,” Takashi said. He made a fist and tapped it against the window, and Shiro realised he was probably capable of punching right through it.

“I’m not as well-adjusted as I seem,” Shiro admitted.

“I know,” Takashi said. “So how did you cope?” he asked, and finally Shiro saw some emotion in the way his jaw tightened, the twist in his voice, and he realised how hard he’d been working to hold himself together. It seemed he was capable of fooling even himself.

He hated this. If it had been almost anyone else in the universe he would have extended his support unconditionally, but part of him felt Takashi’s distress as his own failure, his own fractures deepening under the strain.

“Not well,” he admitted. “But I had my friends. The other paladins. Allura and Coran. In the arena I was alone, but this war can only be won together.” He had Keith; Keith who had rescued him, remained by his side, offering support with a gentle hand on his shoulder or just the look in his eyes. If ( _when_ , he thought fiercely) he saw Keith again, he was going to try and thank him properly, say the things he didn’t need to say, because they’d never needed a lot of words, but that Keith deserved to hear anyway.

He couldn’t offer Takashi any of that; not the years of friendship that grounded them, the trust he offered unconditionally. There was a Keith here, but he was a stranger with his own strange history stretching out behind him like a shadow.

“I’ll have to make some friends then,” Takashi said, forcing a smile. “These galra certainly seem friendly enough. And Keith. You made a good team out there; I watched some of your fights. I was curious when I heard there were other humans competing professionally in the arena. To be honest I was dreading that fight.”

“Because you would have killed us,” Shiro said.

“I would have tried not to.” He flexed his talons. “The only ones I killed deliberately were galra military. Or the druids' prisoners. But yes, I’d seen how ruthlessly you’d worked your way up to challenge me. I didn’t expect you would let me show mercy.”

“We had similar thoughts about you,” Shiro said.

“That’s understandable.” Takashi hesitated for a moment. “Is it true what they told me? About you and Keith.”

“What about us?” Shiro asked.

“That you’re a pair; together.”

“What? Oh, that story. We thought it was a useful cover. I mean, I hardly know him. Not really.”

“And you have your own Keith waiting for you?”

“Well, yeah, but not like that. He’s, he’s like a brother to me.” Shiro knew he was echoing Keith’s own words, and the words gave him the same mixed feelings now as they had then. He didn't need to think about this right now.

“You’re very lucky,” Takashi said.

“You and Keith could still be friends,” Shiro offered.

“That would be nice.”

Feeling suddenly drained by this conversation, Shiro took his leave and made his way back to his room. Takashi remained where he was, arms folded, staring out at the sun. Shiro really couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

Shiro’s room was clearly a converted storeroom, metal storage boxes stacked up against one wall, but there was a bunk and that was all Shiro needed. He stripped off his suit and crawled into it and fell asleep almost instantly for once. He didn’t know how long he slept, but it felt a lot of time had passed when he awoke.

He dreamt of Keith, somehow a paladin and yet back on Earth, the sunlight in his hair and an encouraging smile on his face. They were going somewhere good, somewhere they were looking forward to seeing, like they had back when Shiro was at the garrison, just exploring to see how far they could go before they had to turn around to make curfew.

Shiro awoke with his heart aching and his throat sore with unshed tears. I couldn’t have got this far without him, he thought. How will Takashi manage? He sat up and scratched at the stubble on his face and wondered what time it was.

Time for a shower.

He didn’t know if it was a galra thing or a Blades thing, but there was no tap for hot water, and everything was designed for someone much taller than he was. He wondered how Keith had coped, not just now but when he’d been younger, in a world that wasn’t designed for him, everything awkwardly placed or out of reach.

He’d never known anything different.

Ulaz and Keith were in the living area when Shiro entered, having a spirited discussion across a table littered with the remains of a meal. Antok was there too, but he seemed content to listen.

“Voltron’s more important,” Keith said. “Shiro, tell him.”

“This Castle,” Ulaz said. “This ship; it sounds incredibly advanced. We should seriously consider attempting to retrieve it.”

“It won’t work without Allura,” Shiro said, getting himself a plate. “Do we even know if it’s in one piece?”

Ulaz frowned. “Hard to say for sure. Zarkon’s kept the whole system the Black Lion was found in off-limits, which could imply it’s still there, or that there’s nothing left. We’d have to go and see for ourselves. But I think it’s unlikely he’d destroy it; too much useful technology, even if it is all obsolete by now.”

“You’re all getting ahead of yourselves,” Antok said. “Rescuing the Champion was quite a feat, but the Black Lion will be something else. If Kolivan decides to go ahead with the plan at all.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll go anyway,” Keith said, scowling. “Shiro will come with me.”

“It’s not me you’ll have to convince,” Shiro said. “What do you make of Takashi anyway?”

Keith shrugged, hunching his shoulders awkwardly. He was back in his Blade of Marmora suit, but like Ulaz he wasn't wearing the mask. “I dunno, I’ve barely spoken to him,” he said. “He fights well.”

“That’s not going to be enough,” Shiro said.

“You were the one who said we needed him,” Keith retorted. “Besides, he’s you, isn’t he? You should know what to think.”

“I’m not sure I can be objective,” Shiro said.

“Well I don't see why I-” Keith broke off as Takashi walked into the room, and did a quick double-take as he approached.

“Hey, good morning,” Takashi said, looking surprised to see so many people. “Thanks for the suit. I felt pretty ridiculous in that cloak. But I really look like part of a team now.”

It occurred to Shiro to wonder how come the Blade of Marmora's suits always fitted so well; in his own universe the Blades had created Keith a suit almost instantly despite his small size. They certainly couldn't have had one just lying around.

Takashi was smiling; he looked a little less tired at least. Keith watched him get some food, his face expressionless, and Shiro wondered if he felt threatened to see a human wearing the suit. They'd have to learn to work together if they were to eventually form Voltron, but Shiro couldn't be much help with that. They'd have to work it out themselves.

Takashi sat down to eat, choosing to sit at the end between Keith and Ulaz. Keith dropped his gaze to the table and frowned at it.

“So what's the plan?” Takashi asked.

“We're waiting to contact one of our operatives,” Antok said. “And speculating uselessly without enough information to make informed decisions.”

“I've got to do something,” Ulaz said. “These are exciting times. Besides, we have some information; Zarkon spends most of his time with his fleet in deep space. A fleet that you, Shiro, said you assaulted to rescue Princess Allura.”

Takashi raised his eyebrows, impressed, while Keith lowered his in mulish look and shook his head. The Blades would have left her to rot, Shiro guessed.

“We had Voltron, and the Castle,” Shiro said. “And we still wouldn’t have got away if Thace hadn’t disabled the shields for us.” They hadn’t deserved to escape and Shiro knew it, but he also knew he’d probably do the same thing if he had to make the decision again.

Antok suddenly lifted his head. “Ah, Thace has made contact,” he said. “Kolivan wants you to there, Shiro.”

“Understood.” Shiro got up to put his plate away.

“I’m coming too,” Ulaz said.

“Kolivan said you probably would.”

Shiro paused, but to his surprise Keith didn’t demand to join the group, instead starting to tidy up the table. Takashi kept eating, waving them off without any apparent interest either. Well. It had been less than a day; if he wanted a break he probably deserved one.

“What are you going to do?” Shiro asked them.

“Sparring maybe,” Keith said. “I didn’t really get a chance in the arena, and I’ve always wondered how I’d do against the Champion.”

To Shiro’s surprise, Takashi grinned. “Looking forward to it,” he said, attacking his food with more enthusiasm. Shiro stared at them for a few moments before Ulaz nudged him. Time to go.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Keith couldn’t hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected Takashi to actually agree so readily. Takashi himself didn’t elaborate until Shiro and the others had gone, keeping his attention on his plate.

“We don’t have to go right away,” Keith ventured, a bit uncertainly. “Not if you’d rather rest.”

“Rest? I can't remember when I last slept this well.” He rolled his shoulders and Keith watched the dark material of the suit stretch across them. He couldn't quite work out if Takashi was bulkier than Shiro or not, and he didn't know why it mattered to him anyway. “No, if anything I've got energy to burn now,” Takashi continued. He put down his spoon and looked at Keith with a faint smile. “And I’m curious about you. You must have quite a story, being part-human all the way out here.”

“And not looking galra at all,” Keith said.

“Ah, I’m sorry, is that a sore point?” Takashi asked, and Keith reminded himself that even if he didn’t have Shiro’s background, both men were were apparently perceptive.

Keith shrugged. “It might have been at some point. I’m getting over it.”

“Because of Shiro?”

“I watched you too, you know. I’d never seen another human until I saw you.”

“Huh,” Takashi’s shoulders dropped. “So you’ve never seen Earth? Never wanted to have a look?”

Keith shrugged. “I never really thought about it, I mean, I’ve been to heaps of planets. How different could Earth be?” He’d never wanted to think about it, always trying to forget that other part of him, trying not to seem too human. The galra considered Earth insignificant; what else did he need to know? But Earth had produced Shiro, and the man sitting next to him, and for the first time he wondered what sort of world it was.

“What’s it like?” Keith asked. “Earth, I mean.”

“You want to know what an entire planet’s like? I’m not sure I can summarise it.” He looked away, his gaze somewhere other than the opposite wall. “I thought about it a lot,” he said. “Although I never expected to see it again.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s complicated,” Takashi said. “It’s a complicated planet. You think the galaxy is complicated, with all the different kinds of aliens living in it? We live like that too, just with humans. We don’t always get along, for one thing.”

“Who’s in charge?” Keith asked.

“No one,” Takashi said. “I mean, some people are very powerful, and have responsibility for different things and different areas. But no one rules the whole planet. It’s not like the Empire and Zarkon. Although plenty of people have tried.”

“What happened?” Keith asked.

“Various things. Sometimes other people fought back and won. Sometimes they ran out of time and just died before they could conquer the world.” He looked thoughtful. “We always fought back.”

“Zarkon’s lived for ten thousand years, or so they say,” Keith said.

“You can't blame people for giving up after that length of time.” He looked at Keith. “But it's a relief to know not everyone has. That this group is still out there fighting.”

“And then Shiro appears and makes everything we've been doing seem insignificant,” Keith said quietly. “We did get used to it too; look how much Kolivan has to think about it before we go after the Black Lion. There shouldn't even be any question! If we have a chance, we have to take it.”

Takashi frowned, “I don't know. Shiro's from a whole other universe. Who's to say it's going to work the same in this one? That the Black Lion will even accept me, whatever that means. Are the Lions alive?”

Keith shrugged. He was pretty sure Shiro didn't have much of an idea how they worked either. “Even if it doesn't work, taking it off Zarkon will be a great victory. The whole galaxy will know he's not invulnerable any more. Those people who have given up might change their minds.”

“Yeah,” Takashi nodded. “You're right. And I'll do whatever I need to to make it happen.”

Keith found himself smiling. There it was; that determined look he'd seen almost constantly on Shiro's face.

“What?” Takashi asked, regarding him sideways.

Keith shook his head. “It's like you're brothers. Different, but you can see the resemblance.”

“Should I be flattered on insulted?” Takashi asked.

“He's doing his best.”

“He makes my head hurt,” Takashi said. “I feel like he knows what I'm thinking.”

“Yeah? Me too,” Keith said. “Only half the time he's wrong. And half the time he's right, which is worse.” Keith scowled.

“Well, he and the other you are best friends or something.”

“Or something,” Keith muttered. Takashi raised his eyebrows. “Nevermind,” Keith said hastily. “Are you done eating? I want to fight.”

Takashi nodded, and helped Keith finish tidying up.

Keith didn't want an audience and he had to be quite forceful about it, otherwise so many Blades were just happening to be training at the same time there was barely room to swing a staff. Eventually he managed to get them all to leave, although Takashi just looked bemused.

Keith flipped his braid back over his shoulder, and unsheathed his blade. Out of all the weapons he could pick, he felt this one was the most likely to bring him victory. He still remembered having to run the trial; not all the scars had faded completely, and that experience had, he believed, truly allowed him to master the weapon.

Takashi frowned. “I thought this was a friendly bout. Do we really need weapons?”

“Well _you_ don't,” Keith said. “You have one.”

Takashi looked at his prosthetic hand and Keith realised he'd said the wrong thing, but before he could take the words back Takashi nodded. “Fine, I have to keep fighting, don't I? I won't hold back.”

Keith was flattered for all of two seconds before he had to hurl himself out of the way of Takashi's talons, and they were off.

The Blades training room was designed to withstand quite a bit of punishment, but even so Takashi's claws left scrapes on the walls and floor in Keith's wake. Keith deflected with his blade,  spinning it around his fingers as he slid across the floor under Takashi's hand, flipping up to kick him in the stomach.  He was faster and more flexible, but when his foot connected with Takashi's midsection he wasn't sure his toes hadn't come off second-best. He was harder than Shiro was, just shrugging off blows that would have had his doppelganger reeling.

Keith used his knife defensively for the most part, relying on its rare alloys and his own speed to keep him out of Takashi's grasp. He couldn't say who was getting the better of the fight; Takashi gave nothing way, just like during his arena fights. He never let the opponent see fear or pain, and it was almost like training against a bot.

Sweat gathered on Keith's forehead as he sprang at Takashi once again, and this time when Takashi swatted at him he used his hand as leverage, flipping up into the air and coming down almost on top of him blade first, determined to finally get in a proper strike.

He got the satisfaction of catching Takashi by surprise, his eyes widening as he saw Keith coming down on him, and then the next moment he'd backhanded him across the room. Keith slammed into the wall, his shoulder took the brunt of the impact and he gasped as the air went out of his lungs, his collarbone cracking and his head rebounding off the wall before he slumped to the ground, struggling to draw breath and reeling from the pain.

“Keith!” Takashi ran to him, kneeling down beside him, but not quite game to touch him. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered. “I knew it. I'm sorry. Just stay there. Let me get someone-”

He looked on the verge of panicking. Keith could see the whites all around his pupils, and that viciously armoured gauntlet was trembling, just slightly. Shiro's going to kill me if I mess him up even more, Keith thought. To move his right shoulder was agony, and to breathe wasn't much better, but he couldn't let it finish like this.

“Hey,” he said, in a voice that cracked and wheezed. “Did I say I yielded?” He shoved himself forward with his good arm, head-butting Takashi as hard as he could, feeling a crunch of cartilage as his forehead met violently with the other man's nose. As Takashi rocked back on his heels in surprise Keith pushed his advantage, scrabbling for his blade with his left hand and driving his elbow into Takashi's stomach before hurling the rest of his weight after it, his eyes watering as his right arm flopped around as he sprawled across Takashi's body.

He held the edge of his blade against Takashi's neck with his left hand, glaring down at him and hoping he looked fierce rather than in deep pain. Takashi's nose was bleeding.

“How about _you_ yield?” Keith asked.  He could feel every breath Takashi took beneath him.

Takashi stared at him, looked at him in a way no one had ever looked at him before, something wide-eyed and wondering, his gaze quartering his face as if he was trying to memorise it, his lips slightly parted, although it might have been because breathing through his nose was a lost cause.

“Yeah,” Takashi said softly, in a slightly nasal tone. “You win.”

“Good.” He didn't feel like it was a genuine victory; Takashi had been entirely off his guard, after all, but he didn't look upset either. Keith didn't know what that look meant, but it was interesting.

He took the blade away from Takashi's neck, and used his hand to brace himself instead. Takashi didn't seem all that interested in moving, but he was probably worried about jolting him. Slowly Keith sort of slithered off to the side and gingerly touched his shoulder.

“You should get that looked at,” Takashi said, sitting up.

“You need your nose fixed,” Keith said. “Don't want your face to get messed up.”

“Mm.” Takashi got to his feet, and then extended his human hand to Keith. Keith took it, letting himself get pulled to his feet, and reeling slightly as his head swam. He resisted the urge to touch his forehead to see if there was a bump.

“I've never seen anyone use their head as a weapon before,” Takashi said.

“I've got a thick skull,” Keith said, knowing he sounded inane as he said it but unable to think of anything better as he looked up into Takashi's face. He still looked slightly worried. And he hadn't let go of his hand.

Keith gently removed his fingers and Takashi looked away, raising his hand to touch his bloody nose instead.

“Back to the medical centre I guess,” Keith said, and led the way, knowing Takashi was hovering close in case he fell. Takashi's injury was more obvious, and so Keith didn't feel too bad as several Blades observed them leaving the training area.

It was only once they were in the medical centre that Takashi spoke again.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I think I- I think I panicked. I didn't mean to hit you that hard.”

“I know you didn't,” Keith said. “But I can handle it. I've had worse.” He didn't want Takashi refusing to fight or something. “I asked you to use your arm in the first place. I knew what I was getting into.”

The medical systems were mostly automated, and Keith had needed them often enough that they were familiar with human, or near-human physiology. He got Shiro set up first, adjusting everything with his left hand, before lying back on the other bed and starting the scan.

“You're really something,” Takashi said, the machine hovering over his face to assess his nose.

“What?” Keith asked.

“I said, 'you're really something.'”

“Yeah, what something is that?”

“Oh, it's a phrase. I guess it means beyond words. It's a compliment.”

“Okay.” Keith was obliged to stare at the ceiling while the side of his head tingled. He had to fight a surprisingly strong urge to look over at Takashi instead. He'd smelled good. Smelled like Shiro had and maybe that was just his human side craving its own kind. Maybe.

“I might be here a little while,” Keith said.

“I'll keep you company then. I've not got anything else to do right now.”

Keith smiled.

“Tell me about yourself,” Takashi said. “Like, who were your parents?”

“My mother was a Blade. She was on Earth for a scouting mission; trying to work out if the Blue Lion was actually there, and if it could be defended without disturbing the local wildlife. Which was no, as it turned out. The humans would interfere as soon as they noticed and be put in danger.”

“And your father?”

“I don't know. A human. My mother died on a mission when I was pretty young. I remember her, or at least I imagine I do, but I can't remember her telling me about him. So I was raised here. That's it, really. Not that exciting.”

“You only say that because it happened to you. It sounds pretty exciting to me. I always dreamed of going to space; I had to work pretty hard to get here.”

“Was it what you'd hoped?” Keith asked.

“No. It was beyond anything I could have imagined. I don't have words for it.”

“So it was 'really something'?” Keith asked.

Takashi chuckled, and it was a sound softer than a galra laugh, warmer. “You could say that.”

Keith basked in the easy silence that followed, broken only by the humming of the medical robots, but he wanted to hear more.

“So how'd you get into space?” he asked.

“Well, it's a long process. You start when you're still at school. I applied to get into the garrison. So I had to do a certain number of subjects.”

Takashi was just getting warmed up, and Keith didn't really know exactly what he was talking about half the time, when the door to the medical centre hissed open and Shiro came in at such speed it suggested he'd run down the corridor.

“What happened?” he asked, looking from one to the other.

“We were sparring,” Takashi said. “Keith won.”

“Are you all right?” Shiro's face blocked Keith's view of the ceiling as he leaned over him.

“I'm fine,” Keith said, fighting the urge to laugh. “You should have seen the other guy.”

Shiro sagged slightly, and his face retreated from view. “Okay. Good.”

“What did Thace have to say?” Keith asked, before Shiro could lecture them further. He thought it was pretty funny, but he didn't want Takashi to feel guilty all over again.

“He seems to think it's a suicide mission.”

“That's what they said about rescuing Takashi,” Keith pointed out.

“I never said he wasn't in favour of it. But we need a plan.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

“I can't believe how easy this is,” Takashi said. “We can just fly in.”

“Only thanks to Thace's access codes,” Shiro reminded him. “Besides, I don't think anyone's been stupid enough to try and infiltrate Zarkon's central command before. Not in this universe at least.”

“It would be madness,” Takashi said, with a faint smile.

Keith didn't say anything, just concentrated on flying. He found the humans' rather bleak humour rather wearying, and he didn't quite trust that Takashi was just joking around. When they were planning this mission he'd kept volunteering to take on the most risky parts, undaunted by the prospect of facing Zarkon himself if need be, and only hesitating when the druids were mentioned.

Keith hoped he was just trying to prove himself, but part of him wondered if he was trying to die instead. There was something unchecked about him, something that gave Shiro pause as well.

In the end it hadn't made any difference; Keith had to take point.

Zarkon's massive ship hung in front of them, dwarfing the fleets of battle cruisers that endlessly circled it. Keith had to keep focusing on them to remind himself how big it really was, as nothing else around it gave a sense of scale. It occurred to Keith that all this was somewhat superfluous; who would dare challenge Zarkon now, with his dominance of the galaxy so complete? It wasn't even for show, as Zarkon spent most of his time in deep space, where there was no one but his own armies to see his military might.

They were within arc of the shields now; should they be raised, they'd be unable to escape. Fighters buzzed in and out of view as Keith maintained the standard approach for a supply ship. They'd managed to find one of the small ones used to transport delicate equipment or prisoners, and in the cargo bay were a couple of large crates with directions for delivery crafted by Thace himself to get them where they needed to go.

Keith would have to make his own way.

As they drifted into the maw of one of the massive hangers that gaped along the side of Zarkon's ship, the humans retreated to their crates, both Shiro and Takashi wishing Keith luck. Keith transmitted his ship's ID, holding his breath as the traffic control checked it.

“Cleared,” the galra voice on the other end said.

“Acknowledged,” Keith responded, and followed the illuminated panels that indicated which docking bay he'd been assigned. As soon as he'd touched down, he was out of the pilot's chair and hurrying down the corridor to the escape hatch below the belly of the ship.

They'd wonder where he'd got to, but Thace had told him that a pilot going off-duty half a dobosh before he was supposed to wouldn't raise too many questions. Silently he opened the hatch and listened to the drone patrol wandering up and down the row of ships. As soon as it started marching away he dropped through and sprinted away.

There was nothing to be done about the cameras; he just had to rely on speed, his suit, and luck that no one would be watching at that exact moment.

No alarms rang out, and the drone continued its regular patrol as Keith wrenched the cover off the air duct and slithered into it. Only when he'd pulled it closed behind him did he feel some measure of safety. Thace had uploaded the internal schematics for Zarkon's ship and Keith glanced at his electronic map, although he'd done his best to memorise the route, and started making his way further into the bowels of the massive space ship.

He relied on the night vision in the mask of his suit as he made his way through the maze of tunnels, focusing on putting one hand in front of the other and trying not to think about all the security checks the other two were experiencing within their crates. A random inspection could screw everything up, despite the priority designation Thace had given the crates.

Still, it was all quiet so far. They were maintaining radio silence for the most part, and no news was good news. Or it meant an instant death-do _not_ think of it.

The worst part was, Keith had nothing to do but think. Now he was certain he'd snuck in successfully, he had nothing to do but follow the pre-planned route through endless metal tubes, and while there was the occasional exciting leap across a vast air duct mostly he was crawling, endlessly crawling, and his thoughts circled the around what lay ahead.

Because they had a plan to get in, but not to get out. All they had was the Black Lion, who apparently decided for itself what it would and wouldn't do. Shiro had faith in it, Takashi on some level didn't care too much if it all went wrong, and Keith just felt a gut churning anxiety that this whole thing was a mistake. A mistake they had to make. They had to try.

He might even survive, if it all went wrong; he was well hidden, after all, and Thace could probably sneak him out eventually, but there would be no rescuing the humans. Shiro didn't even belong in this universe, and Takashi could have finally gone home, but decided not to, instead taking part in an alien war that had only brushed his home planet.

If the Black Lion didn't like them, it was a moron, Keith thought. There was no way any sentient being could prefer Zarkon, surely. He'd think this to himself, almost convinced, and then he'd go over it all again.

It was a relief to get where he was going; one of the internal security centres. Keith checked the time, calculated how long they had until the next shift change, and decided not to wait for it, although there was room in the plan to do so. The longer they waited, the greater the risk someone would get curious about the crates and open one.

The galra watching the monitors were completely unprepared as he dropped down among them, blade flashing. He couldn't afford to let any of them raise the alarm, and he was brutally efficient, just as he’d been trained to be

With several bodies littering the floor he secured the door and got to work, cycling through the internal cameras until he got what he wanted; the two crates, still sealed, exactly where Thace had asked them to be delivered, all the corridors in the immediate vicinity, and finally, the interior of the hangar where Zarkon kept his pride and joy.

As the picture changed and the Black Lion came into view, Keith felt a frisson of, of something. It had always struck him as a bizarre ship, when he’d spared it any thought; no one knew how it worked, or even what it was powered by, but to see it knowing what Shiro told him, to know in some strange sense it was _alive_ , made him shiver as he took in its huge, silent form.

Someday I’ll get to fly one of these, he promised himself. He got to work overriding security protocols and unlocking doors, setting everything up beforehand to make it as easy as possible for the humans to make their way to the Black Lion.

Only then did he risk breaking radio silence, waiting for the nearest patrol to pass before giving the signal.

“I’m in. You’re clear.”

He’d barely finished speaking before Takashi had punched the lid off his crate and vaulted out. Shiro was more circumspect, sliding it aside before following him. They both glanced at the camera and nodded before taking off down the corridor.

Keith watched their progress, barely daring to breathe as they hid from patrols and darted in and out of view of his cameras. Finally Keith opened the hangar doors, and the humans slipped in. Keith locked the doors behind them, and watched them slow to a walk, Shiro in the lead as they approached the huge, silent Lion.

Now they’d find out if it was all for nothing, Keith thought. He didn’t have sound, only visual, but he thought Shiro was talking to it.

And then it moved. Keith actually gasped as its eyes glowed, and it lowered its great head and opened its mouth. Was that how you got inside? Shiro was walking into it at least, beckoning Takashi to follow, and then they’d climbed out of view.

Keith waited, going over the route to the hangar from his current position in his head.

He jumped when the coms came to life, Thace’s familiar voice on the other end.

“Zarkon knows. He’s coming. Get out.” He cut the connection as soon as the message was delivered, and Keith hoped he hadn’t compromised himself just sending it. It was strange; no alarms were blaring, the drones continued their patrols without interruption, but as Keith cycled through the cameras he physically recoiled to see Zarkon himself storming down a corridor, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Now I’m scared, Keith thought. He opened communications with the humans.

“Zarkon’s coming, I don’t know why. No alarms have been raised.”

“He’s probably sensed us trying to talk to the Black Lion,” Shiro replied.

“We have to go,” Keith said, frantically locking all the doors he could find between Zarkon and the hangar. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Stay hidden, Keith,” Takashi said. “It’s not- she’s not listening to me. I don’t get this at all.”

“We’re going to try again,” Shiro said calmly.

One of the cameras went off-line as Zarkon casually punched through the door Keith had flung across his path, and then the control panel lit up as alarms were finally triggered. Keith noted Zarkon didn’t seem interested in summoning any help; it was incidental to him whether or not he had backup.

Keith’s time in the control room was at an end. He didn’t like to admit how much of a relief it was to wriggle back into the ventilation ducts. He levered himself through as fast as he could, willing his radio to come to life again with the news they’d got the Black Lion to work, but he heard nothing. Every moment that passed deepened the feeling of dread in his stomach.

Eventually he arrived in the Lion’s hangar and he stayed put in his duct, peering through the slats in the cover at the Lion. What do you want from us, he wondered. Maybe Zarkon had corrupted it utterly.

It was ten thousand years old, but to Keith’s eyes it seemed to come from a future, rather than the past. He tore his eyes away when the hanger doors were wrenched open, and Zarkon strode through.

He’s right there, Keith thought, and he would have expected his greatest desire would be to try and kill him, but to his shame all he wanted to do was crawl back into his duct and hide. Zarkon looked like no galra Keith had ever seen. What has he become, he wondered.

“He’s _here,_ ” Keith hissed into the communicator.

“We can see him,” Shiro said. “Try again,” he added, presumably to Takashi. “I can feel her responding.”

“Who _dares_?” Zarkon’s voice rolled across the room and the hairs on the back of Keith’s neck stood up as he strode forward, his cloak rippling behind him, and his eyes glowing fiercely.

I have to do something, Keith thought. Buy them some more time.

Keith eased the cover off the duct, his heart pounding, and he dropped as silently as he could to the ground, and drew his blade. I’m probably going to die here, he thought in an oddly detached sort of way. He was already running, his feet light and quiet on the floor.

“Keith, no!” That was one of the humans; Keith couldn’t tell which one, loud in his ear.

He closed the gap, focusing on Zarkon’s broad back, and the way his cloak moved—shit! Keith skidded aside at the last minute as Zarkon turned and brought an enormous blade—surely he didn’t have that a moment ago—down on the spot Keith had been standing. The ground rang through Keith’s feet as the weapon sent up a shower of sparks and carved a huge rent in the metal floor.

Keith had just managed to recover as Zarkon turned, and he was sent flying as the sword became a chain. It hit him hard enough to crack a couple of ribs and he twisted away in mid air, terrified of getting caught, fear overriding the pain.

What sort of weapon _was_ this? It had changed shape again, and Keith wondered what sort of moron, having attacked Zarkon once and lived, would try again. This kind, he thought, going on the attack, flipping away from Zarkon’s weapon after his blade rang uselessly against Zarkon’s armour. Zarkon didn’t care that he was tearing up his own ship, and Keith could smell hot metal and frying electronics as Zarkon swatted at him. His ribs were burning, and it was inevitable that Zarkon would eventually land another blow.

Keith saw it coming and instinctively defended with his blade, the force of the attack nearly wrenching his arm out of its socket as he somehow managed to keep his grip on his weapon. He staggered back, reeling, as Zarkon raised his arm to finish him off.

“Keith!” That was definitely both of them, united in horror.

The Black Lion moved. Keith had almost forgotten it was there as it raised its head, its eyes glowing. Zarkon paused, looking up at it.

“What is this?” he growled.

Keith saw his chance and took it. With Zarkon distracted he scrabbled to his feet and ran, ignoring the way every breath made him feel faint with pain. They were just ribs, he told himself; endure.

The Lion roared, a strange metallic sound that filled the entire space. He’s done it, Keith thought triumphantly, and when those massive metal jaws opened, lowering themselves towards the floor he didn’t hesitate to run for them.

“No!” Zarkon roared as Keith flung himself in, tumbling off his feet as the Lion raised its head again, the jaws slamming shut as is turned in its hangar.

“Keith! Are you all right?” Strong arms helped him to his feet and Keith looked up in surprise to see Takashi’s scarred face creased with worry.

He glanced over to see Shiro in the pilot seat.

“I couldn’t do it,” Takashi said, reading Keith’s surprised expression. “I tried. I just-”

“Hang on,” Shiro said and Keith scrambled forward to put his hand on the back of the pilot’s chair. The cockpit was weird and sparse; there were hardly any controls at all and Keith couldn’t make sense of what Shiro was actually doing to fly the machine. It seemed to be doing things without being directed.

“Summon blade,” Shiro said, Keith didn’t really understand how, but the Lion was cutting its way out, leaving big gashes in the huge hangar doors as it leaped about. It put its shoulder to it and they were out.

But not yet free.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

“Shiro!” Keith watched in alarm as the human bowed his head, his eyes shut and his teeth gritted as the lights in the cockpit died around them.

“Zarkon’s trying to get control again,” Shiro managed to get out. “He has so much-”

“Hang in there!” Keith gripped his biceps, willing him to remain in control of the Lion. Come on, he thought, you deserve a better pilot than Zarkon. He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not, that he could feel the Lion, almost like someone looking over his shoulder.

“The shields are up,” Takashi said, his attention on the window in front of them. “And we’ve got fighters incoming.”

“Shiro?” Keith wasn’t sure what to do. Shiro seemed lost in some internal battle, and the Lion hung suspended, drifting slowly away from Zarkon’s ship, but nowhere near fast enough to escape. If Zarkon was still trying to get control of the Lion, he clearly hadn’t died when the hangar had de-pressurised, as Keith had vaguely hoped he might.

“Let me get out there,” Takashi said, clenching his glowing fist. “I can take the fight to them!”

“No!” Shiro gritted out.

“I have to do something. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

“Then talk to the Lion,” Shiro said.

“We tried that,” Takashi sounded almost gentle in his disappointment. He looked over Shiro’s bowed head, meeting Keith’s gaze even though the mask. “Keith, what do you think?” Why is he asking me, Keith wondered. Keith pressed his free hand gingerly against his ribs, willing the pain to recede so he could think clearly. He stared at the oncoming ships, laser fire already glittering against the backdrop of space.

“You’re right. We have to do something. If you know what to do, do it.”

Takashi nodded and turned to go, his face disappearing behind the mask as he prepared to leave the lion.

“And come back safe!” Keith called. Takashi paused for a moment and nodded. “We need to get the jaws open,” Keith told Shiro. He must have heard him because he a few moments later Takashi came into view, almost invisible against the blackness of space save for the glowing blue lights on his suit, and the purple light spilling out of his right hand.

“What’s he gonna do?” Keith wondered, as Takashi planted his feet on the lion’s nose.

He didn’t have to wait long. Takashi’s talons stretched out and swatted at the fighters as they dived in close, sending them spinning off-course, some crashing into the bulk of Zarkon’s ship, others sent spinning off into space. The survivors recovered and swung around for another pass, and Takashi jetted away from the Lion, drawing their fire.

“That’s pretty awesome, but he’s an idiot,” Keith declared as Takashi grabbed one of the fighters and threw it into another one, his jet pack flickering as he stabilised himself.

“Says the man who thought he could single-handedly take on Zarkon himself,” Shiro said.

“I never thought I could take him, I just wanted to buy you some time.” He refused to look at Shiro, knowing how it sounded, knowing what sort of expression he’d have. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

“You shouldn't have let him go out there,” Shiro said in what sounded like a deliberate change of subject, as Takashi twisted away from some laser fire. “We need him to fly the Lion. She's listening to me, but only as,” he paused. “Only as a favour to her other self in my universe, I think.”

“Can she get us out of here as a favour?”

“I'm trying! They don’t really give clear instructions, or any instructions really.”

Takashi was struggling to hold off the fighters. He only had five talons, after all, although the drones seemed to have trouble hitting such a small and well camouflaged target. Takashi braced for another attack but then the squadron banked and zoomed away and he lowered his hand as they flew out of reach.

“Why are they backing off?” Keith asked.

“I don't know,” Shiro replied, and then over the communicator added. “Takashi get back in here, we have to leave.”

“I don't think it wants to leave,” Takashi replied. “It looks pretty dead from out here. We should think about capturing another shi-”

“Takashi!” Keith yelled, as a glowing purple chain shot out and wrapped around the human's leg, dragging him from the Lion's field of vision. “Zarkon's got him. I have to-”

“Keith, you're injured. Stay put.”

Takashi flung his talons at Zarkon and the chain disappeared from around his leg. Keith made a noise of frustration, unable to see what Zarkon was actually doing.

“What is that weapon?” Takashi asked. “It keeps changing shape.”

“It's the black bayard,” Shiro said. “The weapon of the Black Paladin. We can use our hands, but the other paladins need the bayards to control their Lions.”

“So we need this thing, right?” Takashi asked, flexing his hand.

“Takashi get in here!” Keith said. “You can't win-is he insane?” he asked as Takashi jetted out of view, his hand flaring purple.

“You two deserve each other,” Shiro said, his tone equally worried and frustrated but his words rang like a bell in Keith's chest.

“Takashi!” Keith called.

“Kinda busy, but what’s up?” Takashi replied, his voice sounding strained. Keith couldn’t believe he was in the mood to tell jokes.

“We have to help him!” Keith said, and as soon as the words had left his mouth, the Black Lion hummed to life around him, and the consoles lit up. The Lion turned and Takashi and Zarkon swam into view, the latter in some sort of armoured spacesuit.

“The Lion’s working!” Keith said. “Get out of there.”

As he watched the combatants flew at each other, Zarkon batting aside Takashi’s talons. Takashi reformed his hand just in time to deflect Zarkon’s attack, and he spun around, his movements graceful in zero gravity, and grabbed Zarkon’s wrist with his other hand.

He curled his legs up and kicked Zarkon in the stomach, his jetpack flaring to try and put some more force into it. It’s not going to work, Keith thought despairingly; Zarkon just shrugged the blows off. Zarkon unleashed his chain and Takashi had to let go. Zarkon swatted him into the side of the ship, but Takashi let his hand absorb the force. Zarkon dived at him, and now the fight took on a more familiar look as they had their feet planted on the surface of the ship.

Keith had seen Takashi fight so many times before, but never had he seen him forced on the defensive so fast, he gave ground and gave ground again, diving and rolling out of the way as Zarkon attacked him.

“I can’t use the Lion to attack without risking hitting him,” Shiro said. “Get some distance, Takashi.”

Zarkon leaped, and with one swift, elegant move, cut through the glowing fingers of light that connected Takashi’s palm to his talons. Takashi fell back as a horrified ‘no’ dropped from Keith’s lips.

He clutched his fingerless prosthetic, kneeling as Zarkon thrust his blade towards his face. Takashi looked up, using his jetpack to fling himself aside as the lost talons converged on Zarkon’s outstretched arm, clamping down into his wrist.

Keith was pretty sure his jaw was hanging as Takashi’s severed talons wrenched Zarkon’s hand off his arm in a spray of blood and Takashi was already jetting forwards to snatch it, his talons hanging limply from his hand as he flung himself into space and into the Black Lion’s open jaws.

He’s a beast, he’s incredible, Keith thought, his heart pounding and his stomach twisting in a strangely pleasurable way. He had trouble believing what he’d just seen.

The Black Lion turned away smoothly, surging forward to meet the fighters massing to stop them. Takashi climbed back up into the cockpit, Zarkon’s hand with the black bayard still in its grasp dangling from his fingers.

“That was amazing,” Keith said, and he didn’t care if he sounded star-struck.

Takashi touched his helmet and let the mask flicker away. He smiled, looking more alive than he ever had in the arena, something like pride glowing in his eyes. Keith knew he should be watching where they were going, but he found himself unable to look away until Takashi finally dropped his gaze.

“Summon blade,” Shiro said, and the Black Lion bounded along the length of a battle cruiser, splitting it from stern to prow, the fuel tanks bursting and burning in their wake.

“This ship is amazing,” Takashi said.

“It can do more than that. Wait until you see Voltron.”

They were a long way from Voltron right then, but Keith felt a surge of excitement anyway as they carved a swathe through the galra fleet. He understood now why Shiro had dared to assault Zarkon’s stronghold in the first place. The power of the Lions was incredible.

They were drawing close to the shield now, and Keith wondered if they’d have to try and sabotage the generators when it flickered and disappeared.

“Thace,” Shiro breathed. “Let’s make it count.”

Keith didn’t know what Shiro did next but the stars blurred together for a moment and suddenly they’d left the fleet behind, far out beyond the arc of the shield generators.

“What happened?” Takashi asked.

“She has wings,” Shiro replied.

Of course she does, Keith thought. She’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. He reached out and patted the wall; even if he wasn’t her paladin, he wanted to show his appreciation.

They shot off into space, galra warships streaming out after them, their laser cannons lancing the vacuum around them as Shiro inscribed a series of evasive manoeuvres. He looked less cheerful than Keith had expected, his face almost entirely blank.

Takashi, on the other hand, flashed Keith a grin and waved Zarkon’s hand at him. It was dripping blood on the floor, and was still clutching the black bayard in its talons.

“Are you all right?” Keith asked, noticing  Takashi’s prosthetic still hanging at his side.

He lifted it, and the talons dangled backwards at a deeply unnatural angle, the purple glow holding them on pulsing as they watched.

“I think Ulaz will need to take a look at this,” he said. “Zarkon pretty much cut it in half. I dunno what’s holding it together, to be honest.”

“Quintessence?” Keith guessed. Takashi shrugged.

“I don’t understand how any of it works.”

“So you uh, couldn’t talk to her?” Keith asked.

“I tried! I’m sorry, Shiro,” he added. “But hey, we got away. And Zarkon’s not going to be feeling too well right now.”

“It should buy us some time,” Shiro said. “I think he can track the Black Lion, but probably not if he’s in surgery. We shouldn’t go back to Headquarters though.”

“Ulaz can come to us,” Keith suggested. “The Blade has many bases, and ships. We can rendezvous with one of them.”

“Yeah.” Shiro sighed. “Then we’ve just got to think of something else, I guess.”

Keith could see the good humour drain from Takashi’s face. Shiro wasn’t being accusing, but Keith knew whose failure it was he was thinking about.

“I’ll see if I can find something to store this in,” he said, indicating the severed hand. “Do you want the bayard?”

“You should keep it,” Shiro said.

“A transforming weapon is pretty cool,” Keith said, trying not to feel too envious that he wouldn’t get a go and Takashi gave him a wan smile.

The Black Lion had quite a lead on the galra ships, and they’d prepared for their eventual escape beforehand, plotting a course through refractive dust clouds and past scanner-destabilizing suns. The Black Lion appeared to have made her choice for now, and she responded smoothly to Shiro’s commands as they gradually lost the galra fleet.

They sent a message to Kolivan, and Keith’s hopes that they’d be able to audibly surprise their wily old leader were dashed. He congratulated them gravely, and told them to maintain radio silence until they reached the rendezvous point.

The Black Lion was not designed for passengers, and Keith and Takashi ended up sitting with their backs to the wall in the space behind Shiro’s chair. Takashi had managed to jam Zarkon’s hand into a bag and free the black bayard of his talons. He cradled his prosthetic, ignoring the strange weapon for now. Keith watched him, fighting the strange urge to tuck his long hair behind his ear.

“You were pretty amazing,” Keith said, when the silence became unbearable. “You cut his hand off. In ten thousand years no one has even _touched_ Zarkon. The entire galaxy is going to hear about this.” He leaned over and nudged Takashi’s arm. “You’re a hero. A real one, not just in the arena. You’re going to inspire people.”

Takashi stared at him, and Keith suddenly wished he hadn’t taken off his mask. “Keith,” he said softly. “I guess you’re right but-”

“I am right,” he said abruptly, suddenly feeling like he’d said too much, revealed something he hadn’t intended to.

“Well, you showed me how it was done,” Takashi said. “We couldn’t believe it when we saw you try and sneak up on him like that.”

“I couldn’t touch him though.”

“Yes you did, you just couldn’t get through his armour. Maybe you just needed a bayard.”

“What happened in here? What did Shiro make you do while all that was happening?”

Takashi sighed and banged the back of his head gently on the wall. “Sit in the pilot’s chair and try and feel something. Connect with the Lion. Look, don’t get me wrong this thing is literally awesome. Of course I feel something when I look at it, but it’s not like a connection. I don’t think I’m what she’s looking for. I’m happy to join the fight against Zarkon, but it’s like, I’ve never commanded a mission. I’m a pilot, not a captain.”

“I don’t think anyone can really be prepared for this,” Keith said.

Takashi sighed. “Anyway, I guess we were just going to sit there, but when he hit you I, uh, well, I was going to disobey orders and go out and help you. I thought I’d do more good out there. When I stood up, Shiro tried the pilot’s seat and, well, it woke up and rescued you and you know the rest.”

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to do if I can’t fly it?” Takashi asked.

“We’ve got Shiro. We’ll think of something.”

When they arrived at the coordinates they’d been given a ship was waiting for them, Ulaz and several other Blades on board. They had to space walk from the Lion, as it was too large to fit in the ship’s docking bay, and the Blades clustered at the window to stare, and they were greeted with salutes and as warm a welcome as the Blades ever gave.

Ulaz took one look at Takashi’s hand and another one at the bayard, and reluctantly decided the former was a more urgent matter.

“If we can reverse-engineer these bayards, we might not need to find the other four-is that really his _hand_ you’ve got in there? I’ll be having a look at that as well. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

Ulaz was still bent over Shiro’s hand when Kolivan contacted them again for a more detailed report. Once they’d given an account of the mission, Kolivan nodded gravely and said he had news of his own.

“We’ve lost contact with Thace. He was to check in after your mission to update us on Zarkon’s situation and the High Command’s current plans, instead we got his backup data. It looks like his failsafes have triggered.”

Keith felt like the air had been squeezed out of his lungs. He knew this was what happened to Blades, that Thace rode his luck harder than he should have, but he’d seemed so untouchable for so long.

Is this our fault, he wondered. If Thace hadn’t had to break radio silence and warn them-

Ulaz sighed, and passed his hand across his face wearily. “Send through his data then,” he said. “We’ve got still more to do.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

“What’s a sitting duck?”

Shiro blinked awake, only realising as he did so that he’d started to nod off in the first place. He was sitting in the ship’s cockpit, once again finding solace in the view of the endless expanse of space outside and in solitude away from the jubilant Blades.

Keith was leaning against the door frame, arms folded. They must have fixed his ribs already.

“Um.” It took him a few moments to remember what a duck was. “A duck is a kind of waterfowl from Earth that’s often hunted for food or sport. They’re easy to hit when they’re on the water so it’s not considered fair to hunt them while they’re ‘sitting ducks’.”

“Oh. I see.”

Shiro got the impression this wasn’t the only question Keith had for him.

“How’s Takashi?” he asked.

“He fell asleep while Ulaz was still prodding at his hand, so I figured I’d go and look for you.” Keith entered the cockpit, letting the door hiss shut behind him as he dropped into the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’m glad you’re getting along with him,” Shiro said, even if he did feel weirdly left out by the speed at which Takashi and Keith became friends. At the garrison winning Keith’s confidence had taken a lot longer-

No. He had to stop comparing them. Back on Earth they’d had the luxury of time.

“So you wanted to ask about ducks?”

“Mm.” Keith ran his hand through his hair, tugging idly at his braid before finally meeting Shiro’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“We’ve got the Black Lion. That’s what you’ve wanted all this time, and yet you don’t seem very happy about it. Is something wrong with her?”

Shiro shook his head. “I don’t think so. Zarkon’s hold on her seems very strong but that’s not surprising. She, she didn’t recognise me, but she believed me eventually, I think. I’m not meant to be her pilot, I know that much.”

“Isn’t that what you expected?”

“I expected—I _hoped_ that when I was back in the Black Lion, when she saw me, I thought maybe she'd send me home right then and there. I didn’t want to take the controls and then disappear and leave you stranded at Zarkon’s mercy, that’s why I pushed Takashi so hard. But in the end it didn’t matter anyway. I’m still here.” He was trying very hard not to sound bitter. “And I don’t know what to do now.”

He almost flinched in surprise as he felt Keith place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly, a gesture so familiar to the both of them in his home universe, and one completely unprecedented in this one.

“We’ll find a way, Shiro. We owe you that.”

Shiro took a deep breath, missing Keith’s hand the instant he removed it. “Voltron, I suppose, is next.”

“Mm, the Blades will be doing all they can to locate the other four Lions. Thace’s data will help.” Keith looked away, the corners of his mouth turned down as he stared out at the coldly gleaming stars.

“Did you know him well?” Shiro asked.

“No, but I wanted to,” Keith’s frown relaxed into a sad smile. “I didn’t see him often, but when I did he was always returning from some dangerous mission or about to set out on one. I’m not really into research the way Ulaz is; I always wanted to be like Thace instead, in the middle of the action. Although as a half-galra I was never going to be able do what he did.”

“You might do something even greater,” Shiro said.

“Yeah, maybe. I wish he could have seen all of this. I always wanted to impress him a little, you know?”

“Understandable.”

“I just realised, we’ve won a battle against Zarkon. Zarkon himself, not just some soldiers or even a battleship. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before.” Keith frowned, “It’s a shame no one’s gonna know about it.”

“Why not?”

“It all happened in deep space. You really think the Empire’s gonna put it on the news that we chopped Zarkon’s hand off and stole his Lion?”

“Surely the Blades have an alternate method of getting the information out?”

“Well yeah, the networks will be running red hot, but that’s like, a few thousand people at best. We can put rumours out there, but who’s gonna believe ‘em? I wouldn’t if someone told me.”

“If we get Voltron back, they’ll all know soon enough. We can start liberating planets from Zarkon’s control.”

“Is that what you did in your universe?”

“More or less. It wasn’t always straightforward. Zarkon will be able to sense where the Black Lion is. It still belongs to him. Takashi needs to connect with the Lion as soon as possible.”

Keith frowned, and didn’t reply.

“I know he’s trying,” Shiro said. “It was frustrating for me at first too. For all of us, although your bond with Red was very strong.”

“Yeah?” Keith looked up.

“When you and Allura were stuck without a ship, Red flew itself to go and fetch you.”

“Huh. I’m not that Keith though.”

“You’re more than worthy, I can promise you that.”

“What about Takashi?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need to have more faith in yourself.”

Shiro didn’t answer and Keith didn’t press the point, but it wasn’t lost on him that only after meeting Takashi had he really made an effort to open up. They’re going to be fine, Shiro thought.

If only he could be as optimistic about his own prospects.

Shiro had hoped they’d have some time to try and get Takashi acquainted with the Black Lion, but he’d barely made it out of Ulaz’s lab with the strict instructions not to let his fingers get severed again when Kolivan contacted them.

“We’ve received a highest priority distress signal from Marmora,” he said. “It indicates the Blade has something more valuable than their own life and requires an extraction.”

“Which agent?” Keith asked.

“We don’t know. It’s an automated signal. One use only. Normally we would have multiple cells available to answer it, but acquisition of the Lions and investigating the situation within Zarkon’s inner circle are tying up all of our resources. You are the only cell with the ability to help not currently on a mission.”

“The Black Lion hasn’t bonded with her new pilot yet,” Shiro said. He didn’t like the sound of any of this.

“It is operational, however, is it not?”

“Yes.”

“This could be our chance to show the galaxy we have the Black Lion,” Keith said, his eyes bright, ready to resume the fight already.

“I’m game,” Takashi said. “We can’t leave anyone behind if we can help it, and we need any information we can get now the enemy's on the back foot. Shiro, you can fly the Lion for now, can't you?”

“I’ll send you the co-ordinates of the prearranged extraction point. The Blade will attempt to remain in that area as long as it’s safe to do so, but I suggest you move fast. I’ll leave the details up to you,” Kolivan said. “Good luck.”

At least this meant they would be moving again. The longer they stayed in one spot the more likely it was that Zarkon’s ship would appear above them. They held a discussion in Ulaz’s lab, since the Blade refused to leave it while he was still working on understanding the bayard, and decided that it was too risky to lead with the Lion. Sneaking down onto Marmora wouldn’t be too difficult, and the Lion would be kept in reserve for a swift pick-up afterwards, assuming the Blade was still alive.

Shiro still didn’t like it much, but the Black Lion responded to his commands smoothly and they decided it would be best if Takashi accompanied Keith down to Marmora’s surface. At least Keith wouldn’t be going alone. Ulaz had declared he was probably surplus to requirements and would be staying behind to work in the lab.

The Black Lion was quiet as Shiro headed off alone. There were plenty of places to hide around Marmora’s hugely cluttered system; even the Black Lion was dwarfed not only by the numerous planet fragments still roughly following Marmora’s orbit, but also by the many ships large enough to give Shiro enough cover. He landed the Black Lion on the underbelly of a massive carrier of some kind while it was still approaching the system, crouching the Lion down behind its fattened midsection, the vast engines roaring away either side, cloaking the Lion’s heat signature almost entirely as the oblivious vessel drifted into a close orbit, waiting for its turn to dock and unload.

Shiro watched parts of Marmora slide in and out of view, and waited for the signal to descend. The Blade’s ship would be docking normally and Keith and Takashi would sneak off. Even if security was tighter than usual, they were confident of making it down safely.

Shiro wished he was down there, wished he could see what was going on. They’d contact him when they needed him, but not a moment earlier. Once the Black Lion entered the atmosphere, the Empire would be alerted and even the Black Lion couldn’t take on the entirety of the planet’s defence forces alone.

We always come back here, Shiro thought, staring up at Marmora’s jagged silhouette. The hours slid by with excruciating slowness. Shiro was starting to worry that the ship he was hiding under would finally make it to the front of the queue to dock when his communicator came to life, making him jump.

“Come get us we’re taking heavy fire,” Keith said into his ear.

“On my way.”

The Black Lion surged to life as Shiro reached out to her. Help us again, he asked her, and she responded. He peeled away from the cargo ship and swerved through the slow-moving space traffic as he made for Marmora’s glowing surface. The extraction point on was on the upper shell, the oldest part of the planet, and he sank through relatively clear skies, the blackness of space getting gradually brighter as it was eclipsed by the atmosphere, the stars fading.

The atmosphere hummed across the Black Lion’s surface, the city below a featureless carpet of grey gradually resolving itself into a tangle of buildings, great smears of light indicating highways and overpasses. He could see plenty of ships in the sky, but none of them came near him, and it occurred to Shiro that they had no clue the Black Lion was now in the hands of the enemy. Zarkon’s attempt to save face was keeping him safe, for now, and thus he maintained a straight trajectory, like he had every right to be there.

Nearly there; Shiro was aiming for a wide boulevard lined with glowing store fronts, one of the few open places large enough to put the Lion down safely. As it was he’d have to hope anyone underneath would have the sense to get out of the way.

He was about three hundred meters off the ground when he sensed the sky darken suddenly. He craned the Lion’s neck to look up and his stomach twisted in fear as Zarkon’s ship hovered in the sky above, eclipsing everything else in the sky by orders of magnitude. The Black Lion’s power faded like someone had flicked a switch and Shiro reached out for her automatically, trying to coax her back to life.

It was a trap, he realised, as he was pulled roughly out of time and space, the Black Lion's mind expanding around him even as he struggled to return to reality.

“There you are,” Zarkon said, into his ear, into his mind, and Shiro hurled himself out of the way, diving to get out of Zarkon's reach as he once again found him in the space that was no space, somewhere within the horizon of the Black Lion’s mind.

And of course, Zarkon was there too.

His hand was nothing more than a bolted-on set of claws; the druids hadn’t had time to make him something fancy, but he was no less fearsome for it, towering over Shiro, his eyes glowing with concentrated hate.

“Give me back what is mine,” he rasped, and lunged at him.

The Zarkon Shiro had fought before had waited for Shiro to attack, goaded him, but this one had no time for further words, attacking with relentless fury, not standing still for an instant.

But he was injured, and Shiro was able to lure him into a reckless attacks that left him open to retaliation. Come on, I’ll kick you out of the Black Lion for good, he thought as he planted his fist in Zarkon's midsection. Maybe the memory of Takashi's fight spurred him on, showed him what he was capable of.

He had Zarkon on the defensive, he was sure of it; the attacks were fewer, as the alien overlord concentrated on blocking. Something started to change about the space around them and Shiro paused, wary. He could feel it expanding, even though it looked infinite to start with, and he wondered if the Black Lion was going to intervene in this fight.

“Help me find him, please.” The voice drifted through the space no louder than a whisper, but Shiro recognised it regardless. “Work with me, we have to work together. Please.”

“Keith,” Shiro said. It was Keith. It had to be. _His_ Keith.

He'd been right; this was the way back to his home universe, somehow, although this place seemed to lack all direction. If he concentrated, maybe he could find his way back, land in Keith's lap, tell him he was all right.

For a moment it was all he wanted, more than anything.

He ducked as Zarkon nearly took his head off with his claws. “I will find you all!” he snarled. “I'll root you out and kill you.”

Keith wasn't safe here. His tentative connection with the Black Lion wasn't strong enough for him to hear what was going on, apparently, but Zarkon kept glancing about, listening, Shiro realised. Trying to find him.

“Keith!” Shiro yelled. “Go back! Stop looking!” It was useless; Zarkon was probably the one to pull him in through the Black Lion in the first place. He had no power here. His voice felt small and dull.

Zarkon seemed to sense it too, sensed his distress. He smiled, his eyes narrowing as he stood taller.

“Try and find him, find Shiro,” Keith said. Something about the way he said it made Shiro think he'd said these words before; he sounded exhausted by them. How long had he been gone? Weeks? Months?

“There you are,” Zarkon practically purred, and stretched out his remaining hand.

Shiro didn't wait to see if he had the power to grab Keith from another universe. He launched himself at Zarkon with a recklessness that Takashi probably would have approved of. He drew his hand back, aiming his prosthetic at Zarkon's head. Zarkon swept to the side, and punched Shiro off course, sending him skidding across the surface.

“Don't think I'd forgotten you,” he said, as Shiro wheezed, trying to get air back into his bruised lungs. “Yes, I see the connection now.” He advanced on Shiro. “You are the loose thread that is unravelling _everything_.” He clenched his claws.

Shiro backed away, but there was nowhere to go _to_ , and Zarkon kept coming.

“You cannot run. You cannot hide, little alien.”

I can fight, Shiro thought, as Zarkon smiled.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Keith had never felt so excited by a mission before. His limbs felt light, energy practically bubbling out of him, even though there was nothing for him to do but wait in the cargo hold with Takashi. He had to force himself to stop bouncing on the balls of his feet.

It wasn’t even that this was an inherently exciting mission. After infiltrating Zarkon’s ship and fighting Zarkon himself, dropping down onto Marmora for a standard extraction wasn’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, it barely felt like a mission at all.

Maybe that was the problem, if it was a problem. He felt like he was going on leave, and he should be focusing, he told himself, but there was nothing to focus on, not yet.

He had to force himself to stop looking at Takashi as well. The human was wearing his mask, but his posture was relaxed, his broad shoulders dropped, one hip resting against the wall as he watched their approach through one of the tiny windows in the cargo bay.

Keith was glad Ulaz had decided to remain behind. They could handle whatever came up, he was sure of it. Just the two of them.

The ship descended through the upper atmosphere, and Takashi joined Keith near the cargo bay doors. Once they were at a safe height and speed, they’d get the signal to go. It was similar to the way Shiro had escaped from the planet, but unlike him they had detailed routes planned out, and the Blades in the ship were monitoring the emergency frequencies, prepared to warn them if they were discovered.

The bolts shot back on the cargo doors, and Keith braced himself.

“Keith,” Takashi said. “Good luck.”

Keith gave him a thumbs-up, and then the cargo doors opened and he felt the tug of Marmora’s stratospheric winds. They dived out together, falling down past the endless docks. Keith tucked his limbs in and leaned forward, focusing on the distant ground below and the altitude meter in his HUD. His eyes told him he was hardly moving. They were lying.

At the last possible moment their fired their jetpacks to arrest their fall, landing on the roof of one of the buildings neighbouring the spaceport.

They didn’t wait around to see if anyone had noticed them; they were off and running, Takashi using his hand to swing himself across the skyline while Keith relied on his jetpack.

This was so much fun, he thought, soaring above the city like they owned it. He could track Takashi’s progress by his arm, their suits blending into the dark grey of Marmora’s buildings, everything tinged with purple under the glowing sky.

They were making a beeline for the rendezvous point, but slowed down as they approached. They lay on their stomachs, peering over the edge of the roof, and Keith adjusted the focal length on his mask's vision.

“Looks like a roadblock down there,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” Takashi said, tilting his head closer to Keith’s to speak although there was no real need to be quiet up here; the sound of the wind shredding itself on Galra architecture would have drowned him out even if he’d shouted. Keith didn’t mind, however, and he found himself leaning closer as well.

“They might have snipers up here,” he warned, surveying the other rooftops. It was hard to tell; they would be just as camouflaged. “What do you think we should do?”

“You’re the infiltration expert,” Takashi said, and Keith felt flattered, although he knew it wasn’t meant as flattery.

“Let’s stay up on the rooftops. We want to avoid them knowing we’re here as long as possible. We need to find our contact before we can decide how best to rescue them.”

Takashi nodded and Keith led the way, focusing on stealth rather than speed. He avoided the best sniper positions, and waited and watched the skyline before moving.

They made their way past the roadblocks, and were now leaping above strangely deserted streets; the only movement below was military vehicles and drones. Occasionally a ship would drop from the sky or rise from between the buildings and they’d dive for cover, crammed up against each other in whatever shadows they could find.

“They’re searching the buildings,” Takashi said quietly, as he peered in through a decorative skylight at a mall area below. “Slow and methodical.”

“So they don’t know where their target is. Good. We do. Assuming they’re at the co-ordinates.”

The building chosen for the extraction point was some sort of office tower, chosen for its very ordinariness, and the fact that it overlooked a large boulevard that would serve as a landing point.

Keith and Takashi surveyed it carefully, but there was nothing for it but to go in and look.

They’d barely touched down on the roof of the building when a burst of gunfire somewhere below them had them scrambling for cover. The snipers would be looking their way now, and the aimless movement on the street below started to focus.

“Shit,” Takashi said. “We need to find them fast. How many floors does this thing have?”

“We’ll use the vents,” Keith said.

“You and your vents,” Takashi said, and he sounded so fond Keith flushed under his mask. “I hope I can fit.”

It was a bit of a squeeze with his hand, but Takashi could use it to pull himself through quite a distance swiftly, while Keith was resigned to crawling. They made their way into the bowels of the building, following the sound of sporadic gunfire.

“It has to be this floor,” Keith said, as he watched a quartet of drones stomp past. “Let’s go.”

He swung himself down and lashed out with his blade, cutting the unsuspecting drones down before Takashi had dropped out of the vent behind him. Keith hoped he’d been watching.

They set off in the direction the drones had been running, scavenging a couple of rifles as they went. They found a door blasted open, and the remains of several drones, but the office beyond was empty.

“Well, I wouldn’t stay here either,” Takashi said.

They turned to run out again and stopped short as a galra loomed over them, his uniform dark save for the reddish glow that indicated a high-ranking officer of the Empire. Keith raised his rifle.

“Aren’t you a little short for a Blade?” a familiar voice asked.

“Thace!” Keith couldn’t keep the delight out of his tone, as the uniform suddenly made sense. “We’re your extraction team. This is Takashi. The Champion.”

“I know who he is,” Thace said. He sounded amused, but he often did. His armour looked like it had taken a couple of hits, and burn streaked across his jaw, but otherwise he seemed to be in one piece. He stepped aside to reveal the slight figure who’d been standing behind him, completely obscured by his bulk. “This is Princess Allura of Altea.”

Keith had never seen an altean before, and oddly enough she reminded him most of a human. She was wearing what once had been a very fine dress, but the skirt was roughly chopped off at the knees for ease of movement, and her feet were encased in heavy combat boots. She was carrying a Galra rifle, and she regarded them with blazing eyes framed by white bangs, undaunted by their situation. Keith ducked his head politely; she didn't seem the type to be worried about protocol.

“What now?” she asked, and then turned and fired her rifle down the corridor, forcing a handful of drones to take cover. “This gun’s nearly out of charge.”

“Take mine,” Takashi said, stepping forward. He handed it to her as he flung his talons at the drones, skewering two and throwing them into their companions.

“We head to the roof,” Keith said. “We’ve got a ship coming.” He lifted his hand to activate the communicator when he heard glass breaking and the next thing he knew Thace had pounced on him, knocking him aside as the office behind him was obliterated by an explosion.

“They’ve got that heavy ordinance in position now,” Thace said rolling back onto his feet. “They’ll level the building to get her back.”

“Come get us,” Keith said into the communicator, scrambling to his feet. “We’re taking heavy fire.”

“On my way,” was the response, and Keith was glad Shiro hadn't had any problems at his end.

“The princess must be protected at all costs,” Thace said.

Keith knew that, but he couldn’t help feeling weirdly annoyed at the way Takashi was standing next to her, focused on the corridor beyond.

They couldn’t take the vents back up, and Thace explained the Empire had taken control over the building’s internal systems. They wouldn’t get far waiting for the elevator. So they were obliged to take the stairs, as their enemy knew they would be, and they faced drones on every floor as heavy artillery shook the stairwell around them.

They needed to protect the princess, but she wasn’t dead weight, holding her own with the rifle and when trapped in closer quarters, with her fists and feet.

They made it to the top floor when Keith told them to halt. Somehow, despite the fact Thace was with them, he’d retained command.

“We shouldn’t break cover until the Lion gets here.”

“You have a Lion?” Allura asked.

“Here he comes,” Takashi said, having stationed himself by a window, keeping his head down. Keith joined him and watched the Black Lion descend from the purple sky.

“They’re not firing at it,” Takashi said.

“They don’t know it’s not Zarkon.”

“What of the other Lions?” Allura asked.

“We’re working on them,” Keith told her. “We need to get you safely out first.” He glanced at Thace. “What happened?”

“High Command was in an uproar. Haggar summoned the druids to try and work on Zarkon’s arm, and decide what to do next; I’ve never seen such chaos. Ulaz had told me about the mysterious prisoner in cryosleep and I saw my chance and took it. The rest is a long story.”

“We can tell it later,” Allura said. “Look!”

In the sky behind the Black Lion, a wormhole was opening, a dark maw through which slipped Zarkon’s base. Its size was such that the entire scene grew visibly darker, the endless twilight thickening in the shadow of it.

The Black Lion was still coming in for a landing, and Keith saw the exact moment Shiro lost control. The smooth approach abruptly became a free fall as the light in the Lion’s eyes died, and it plummeted to the ground so swiftly Keith had time to do no more than gasp in surprise. It landed somewhere out of sight with a sound that reverberated throughout the building, raising a cloud of dust.

“Well, that takes care of most of the vehicles in the street,” Thace observed. “I assume that manoeuvre wasn't intentional, however.”

“Zarkon's trying to get control of the Lion. I suppose I should try and get it back,” Takashi said. “Shiro said his hold was strong.” 

Keith could see him steeling himself, and could hear how little confidence he had.

“No, Takashi,” Keith heard himself say. “We tried that last time and it didn’t work. I’m going this time. You're needed to protect Allura, in case I don't succeed.”

He wished he could see Takashi’s face, and that Takashi could see his. He wasn’t judging him, but he guessed that was what it sounded like. He’d apologise later.

Shiro would have argued. Takashi did not.

Allura smiled at him, “Good luck.”

He nodded, and scrambled to go. “If it doesn’t work, if I don’t make it back, Thace is in charge.”

He ran out onto the roof, and wasn’t immediately sniped; all eyes were on the downed Lion. There was no sign of Zarkon himself, and his ship still hovered motionless in the sky. The remaining forces on the ground were still; everyone seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

Keith ran across the roof and leaped off, firing his jetpack as he soared towards the Lion. He landed on its hindquarters and started running along its back, taking cover when he could but focusing on moving. This thing was huge and he could sense its latent power. He wondered if it was listening to him somehow, if it was aware. Shiro always talked about it like it was.

_Open up,_ Keith thought fiercely. He knew he couldn’t defend the Lion from the Empire, but at the very least he was going to get Shiro out of there. They’d find another way if they had to, but he was not going to leave the human behind. He was thinking like a human himself now, he realised.

“He might not be your pilot,” Keith said, panting as he ran. “But he was doing his best.”

Too tired to climb over the Lion’s head, he used his jet pack to arc over it, intending to land on its nose. It was only when he was committed to the landing that he realised the Lion’s eyes were glowing.

It opened its jaws with an almost lazy air, and snapped them closed around him.

Keith landed painfully on the inside of the Lion’s mouth and tumbled down its throat, landing with a bruising thud. It didn't try and chew him or anything and he sensed again its strange attention was on him.

He ran up to the cockpit, and saw Shiro slumped nervelessly at the controls. He was still here then; Keith had half expected he'd left the universe.

“Shiro! Wake up!” Keith ran over and Shiro keeled out of the chair when Keith shook him, his eyelids fluttering, but he didn’t wake even as he tumbled onto the floor. “What’s happening to you?” Keith muttered.

He moved around the chair, intending to drag Shiro back up into it, but as he did he paused. If Shiro wasn't going to wake up, it was up to him, wasn't it?

Gingerly he sat down at the controls. “Hey,” he said. “Help me out here. I’ve got some people to rescue.”

He heard a burst of gunfire hit the Lion, and instinctively he pulled on the controls to turn and face it, as he did so the cockpit lit up, and the Lion started to move.

“Yes,” Keith breathed. “Yes that’s it! Come on!” He could feel something reluctant about the Lion’s movements, but he was delighted it was responding at all. He felt a fierce joy and pride, even as the attack continued. As he turned to face the building where the others were, Takashi's talons clamped onto the Lion's nose, and the man himself, still firing the rifle with his other hand, pulled himself towards the mechanical beast. Behind him on the roof, Thace struggled to restrain Allura, the two of them wrestling for her rifle.

“What the?” Keith activated his communicator as Takashi aimed his claws at the Black Lion's eye. “It's me! Stop! I'm flying it! I don't need to be rescued.” Takashi lowered his hand. “You maniac,” Keith muttered. “You're supposed to rescue the princess, not me.”

Nevertheless, he felt a bit pleased.

“Keith!” Shiro had woken up, and he pulled himself upright, looking about wildly. Keith felt whatever was holding the Lion back give way, and it moved more freely.

“I’ve got it, Shiro!” Keith said. “I’m flying it.”

“Thank goodness,” Shiro said, but Keith got the impression he was talking about something entirely different, as he bowed his head in relief. Shiro wasn't hurt, but Keith didn't think he was entirely okay either; if he was he would have been more pleased for him, he was sure of it.

“Are you all right?” Keith asked. “Be honest.”

Shiro glanced at him. “I'm fine, honestly. I'm not the one to worry about.”

“We’re getting out of here,” Keith said, still very aware they were in hostile territory. The Lion lifted its head and opened its jaws, and Takashi swung inside, Thace and Allura jumping across from the roof at his heels. As soon as they were inside Keith took off. It was the weirdest ship to fly, and in fact he wasn’t sure how it managed to fly at all, but it soared up through Marmora’s skies at his command.

“They’ll have thrown a cordon around the whole planet,” Thace said. “How much damage can this ship take?”

“Don’t worry,” Allura said. “I can get us out of here. Where do you want to go?”

“We've got to meet up with Ulaz and the other Blades,” Keith said, as swarms of fighters filled his vision.

“Give me the co-ordinates and I'll do my best.” He couldn’t see what she was doing, concentrating on swerving away from the laser fire, but in the air in front of him the fabric of space tore open and a wormhole opened.

“That’s amazing, Princess,” Thace said, awestruck, as they soared through it, leaving Marmora and Zarkon far behind.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Thace and Allura were tired and hungry, and there was no point in trying to hide any more, so they informed Ulaz of their change of plans and travelled to the nearest refuelling station which boasted a restaurant.

The arrival of the Black Lion caused no small commotion as everyone crowded to the windows to look as it arrived. Apparently Zarkon hadn't made a habit of stopping in at places for a meal.

They left the Lion warily, but no one challenged them. Instead they stared; some looked fearful and some suspicious, but there were smiles too. On the screen above the bar, images of the Black Lion leaving Marmora flashed. The volume was down so the voice-over was a low murmur but the text underneath indicated the Empire was offering a reward for anyone with information, and it was a big one. Keith knew they couldn't stay here long, even if no one here was actively hostile to the cause.

He paused at the entrance while the others walked in, eyeing the vents and the exits and the nervous crowd. Thace would be doing the same, but far less obviously. He didn't feel like it was time to relax yet, he still felt on edge, like he was waiting for something more to happen.

Takashi had stopped too and he took a deep breath before turning to face him.

“Keith?” He looked so worried it did nothing to calm Keith's nerves. “Um, look, can you, uh, apologise for me? To the Lion, for attacking it like that. I don't want it to hate me or anything.”

“I don't think it hates you.” Keith honestly didn't know what it thought. It seemed to like him, but he couldn't say much more than that. “I'll try and tell it anyway though.” He focused and tried to think the message at the Lion, but he didn’t get any sense that it had been received.

“I just saw it eat you, and I thought it had turned against us. I had to try and get you out.”

“By single-handedly taking on one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy?”

“I didn't think about it like that.” Takashi's shoulders dropped. “I nearly messed up everything. If I'd pissed it off I guess it wouldn't be helping us now. Honestly, it's kind of a relief that I don't have to try and fly it.” He gazed out the window at the silent Lion. “It was pretty obvious I wasn't cut out for it. You're going to make such a good leader, Keith.” He glanced at him. “And anything you need me to do, I'll do it.”

Keith blinked. He'd never really considered this an audition for the job of Black Paladin; he just wanted to get them out, but the idea, well, he had to admit he liked it. It was a beautiful ship.

At the counter Allura was introducing herself, a ragged and defiant princess from a lost people. Declaring that the revolution started here. The other customers were rapt, even the galra among them silent and respectful. There was something about her that commanded everyone's attention.

Almost everyone. Keith was only distantly listening with half an ear, staring at Takashi as the human offered him his loyalty. He wished then that he knew more about them. How was he supposed to react? The feeling in his chest intensified; he knew he had to do something. Something he'd been waiting or hoping for.

What was it Shiro did?

His heart pounding, he stepped up to Takashi and wrapped his arms around him, hesitantly at first, in case Takashi reacted like he'd done. He didn't. He made a soft, small sound of surprise and returned the gesture, and oh, he smelled like Shiro. Better. He was warm and his talons rested lightly against Keith's back, but his human fingers dug into his shoulder, squeezed. Keith realised he didn't want to let go. He didn't think Takashi did either; he could feel him shaking slightly.

“Thank you,” Takashi said, and Keith realised that was what he wanted to say as well, but it was too difficult to speak right then.

Humans did this. And Takashi had been away from humans for so long. No wonder he'd missed it. Keith gripped him tighter, resisting the urge to just bury his face in his chest. He couldn't take much more of this. It was too much. It was doing weird things to his insides.

Someone would notice eventually too.

He stepped back, almost wrenched himself free. He glanced around hurriedly, but the crowd was still watching Allura. Only Shiro caught his eye for a moment and quickly dropped his gaze, his expression unreadable.

Keith smiled awkwardly at Takashi, who mirrored his expression, and they joined the others.

They ordered food and shuffled into a booth, doing their best to ignore the curious looks they still got. Some of the crowd had left, and Keith privately wondered how many were racing off to try and claim that reward. There was nothing to be done for now; they needed to get the word out, regardless of the risk. They had to show they weren’t afraid if they were to inspire others to fight back with them.

Allura slumped a little when she sat down, and then rallied to introduce herself again, now they were no longer under fire. She's strong, Keith thought, Thace was right to abandon his post to rescue her. He and the others introduced themselves, and Allura complimented him on connecting with the Black Lion. She wanted to know about the other Lions and the Castle, and they did their best to oblige her, but there was a lot they didn't know.

Their food arrived, and Keith realised he was hungry, although perhaps not as hungry as Allura, who practically inhaled her portion. They were still eating when Ulaz and other Blades arrived, their ship docking at the refuelling station. Only Ulaz emerged, the other Blades remaining hidden for now, and he hurried over to them, his long face creased in a delighted, slightly manic grin.

“There you are!” He looked at Thace. “I thought you were dead, and I'd be a shoo-in for your position.”

“Better luck next time,” Thace said.

“And this is Princess Allura? I'm Ulaz, at your service.” He saluted. “I'm delighted to meet you.”

“Hello,” Allura said. “Likewise.”

“You have such lovely ears,” he said.

“You're only saying that because they look like yours,” Thace muttered as Ulaz sat down beside him.

“Princess,” Shiro said. “Do you have any idea how I came to be in this universe? How I might get back?” There was fresh urgency in his tone, Keith realised.

She shook her head, “I don't. But the Lions are very mysterious, as is their bond with their pilots. Thace told me you were in battle when you were sent here. Perhaps the Lion was trying to protect you.”

“When Zarkon took control of the Lion, he kind of pulled me into a space _within_ the Lion. In our universe we've fought there before. I had no control this time, but while I was there, I heard Keith—that is, the Keith from my universe—searching for me. He has to be trying to bond with Black as well.” He took a deep breath. “Like I told him he should in my absence. But now Zarkon knows about him, and about the bridge within Black to my universe. He was trying to pull him in. I should have warned him, I should have tried to explain what happened.”

Keith understood now why Shiro had seemed so quiet and shaken, and the renewed determination to leave. Nothing seemed to get to him quite like a Keith in danger. He supposed there was now a chance he'd get to meet this other Keith too, or talk to him through the Black Lion.

“I won't let Zarkon through,” Keith said, and Shiro nodded. It wasn't a promise he could really make, but he'd die trying if he had to. Shiro had to know it too but he didn't argue, just gave Keith a slightly sad, proud smile.

“I don't think any universe could stand to have two Zarkons in it,” Allura said. “His lust for power is endless. One universe would not be enough, once he's sensed the possibility of others. We must not let Black fall into Zarkon's hands again.”

“Agreed,” Thace said. “But what do we do now? The Blades can locate the other Lions, but how do we get them off the Empire's battleships?”

“Their pilots will fly them off,” Allura said.

“I haven't had a lot of luck with the bayards,” Ulaz admitted. “Although I did have a lot of fun trying. I suppose we might have to contact Slav.”

“Or see if the Castle is intact,” Thace suggested. “We'll want to do that anyway.”

“The Lions will fly without the bayards,” Allura said. “They'll be weaker, but we need them in our hands as soon as possible. Keith.”

He looked up, “Princess?”

“You've already proven you're worthy of piloting the Black Lion. I will pilot the Yellow Lion, like my father did.” She barely faltered. “Thace.” Thace kept his face expressionless but Keith could see his ears perking up slightly. “You will pilot the Blue Lion, and Ulaz, Green.”

“I'll do my best,” Thace said. “Thank you, Princess.”

“I really wonder what Kolivan's going to make of all this,” Ulaz said, looking quite pleased at the prospect.

“I am looking forward to meeting him,” Allura said, with a determined frown. Keith himself was rather hoping he'd get to be there when it happened. The phrases 'unstoppable force' and 'immovable object' floated across his mind. “Takashi, you will fly the Red Lion.”

“What? Really?” Takashi's eyebrows shot up. Shiro just nodded thoughtfully, like he'd worked something out.

Allura smiled. It made her look tired. “The Red Lion is the fastest of the Lions, and relies on a pilot that acts with instinct, not just skill.”

“That's definitely you,” Keith said, nudging his arm with his elbow.

“I'm honoured,” Takashi said. He glanced at Keith and back at Allura. “You can count on me, Princess.”

“We should keep moving,” Shiro said. “Someone will report us eventually.”

“We're leaving already?” Ulaz looked at the empty plates and cups strewn across the table and sighed.

“Just get something to-go,” Takashi said. It was like a spell had been broken, or perhaps he'd finally emerged from Shiro's shadow. He held himself higher, and when he met Keith's gaze his eyes gleamed. Something of the flat, resigned look of the Champion had gone.

He looked really good, Keith thought. Alive. He wanted to hug him again, not for comfort, but for joy. They were going to do this together, just like Shiro and his Keith did, and Keith wondered if he'd been a bit jealous of them all along.

Allura wanted to talk to Shiro, and so Takashi was the only one who accompanied Keith back to the Black Lion once Ulaz had obtained some food.

“I think we can really do this,” Takashi said as the Lion's jaws closed behind them. “I can't believe Shiro had to do this with a bunch of cadets though.  At least Thace and Ulaz are pretty experienced operatives, right?”

“Yeah, I just hope they listen to me.”

“They will,” Takashi said. “You've proved yourself. Even Allura says so and she's the expert.”

“Mm.” Keith sat at the controls and they lit up as the Black Lion got ready to move. “So, Red, huh?” He felt a grin tug at his lips. “All instinct, no self control?”

“That's not what she said,” Takashi responded, and Keith could hear the amusement in his voice. This was fun. Whatever this was. “If I had no control over my instincts, you'd know,” Takashi promised him, and Keith jerked his head up in surprise, even as his stomach jolted at the words.

Takashi's smile was just a bit sly, and it broadened as Keith felt his face heat up. Oh, _that's_ what this is, he thought. He was glad his hands were on the controls, so he didn't have to worry about them shaking.

“Too much?” Takashi asked softly.

Keith shook his head.

“Okay.” He didn't push it any further, and they soared off the wake of the Blades' ship in silence. The good sort of silence. The silence that promised pleasurable conversation later.

Kolivan wanted to talk to them, and to preserve the secret of the Blade's headquarters he travelled to meet them on a distant world; one of their allies quietly passively resisting the Empire, like so many did.

They were given space to talk, fuel, and the promise of as much warning as possible should the Empire find out where they were hiding, and the locals gathered in their hundreds to visit the Black Lion where it sat in the centre of a large plaza. They filed past it respectfully, fluffing their antennae at the Lion while a couple of Blades were stationed to keep anyone from interfering with it.

When Kolivan arrived, he looked Keith in the eye and saluted him.

“Well done. She'd be proud,” he said. Keith wasn't hiding behind his mask now; it seemed wrong for a paladin of Voltron to do so, and so he had to let his commander see his watering eyes.

“Thank you, Commander.”

As Keith had half expected, Allura and Kolivan immediately got into a debate about just who was in charge, and who should decide where Voltron would be best deployed when they actually got their hands on it. They both agreed they should work together, but when Keith finally got bored and left them to it, they hadn’t agreed on much else.

Keith went to look for Shiro without any real idea where he might be. They hadn't had a chance to talk, and Keith felt something had changed, like Shiro's focus was now elsewhere. He'd been reminded of the other Keith, and Keith knew he couldn't compete. Didn't want to, now, he just wanted to make things right. He wandered aimlessly, getting a feel for their current surroundings and enjoying being on a planet with atmosphere and a clear open sky. The suns in the sky were dazzling.

He thought he'd spotted Shiro at the top of some steps, but when he approached he realised it was Takashi enjoying the sun despite the heat; he’d been confined for a long time as well, and not by choice for most of it. He was sitting facing away from the city, looking out at the plains beyond and at the white rolling hills streaked with red and purple on the horizon.

“What do you think the colours are?” he asked, as Keith joined him. “Rocks, flowers, crops?”

“We could ask.”

“We could see for ourselves. Take the Lion for a spin.” He grinned to let him know he wasn’t being serious, but Keith suddenly wished they could just get away somewhere together.

“That would be nice.” He wasn’t sure how close to sit so he stayed standing. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Earth someday,” he said hesitantly.

“Yeah? I definitely have to show you around. Maybe not in the Lion though. Something a little less attention getting. Something slower so you can appreciate the scenery.” He heaved a sigh. “I wonder what happened to my hover-bike. I just left it in storage when I went to space.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said lightly.

Keith bit his lip to stop himself from grinning too widely.

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

Shiro had stationed himself at a window overlooking the plaza in which the Black Lion sat silent and gleaming in hot sun. The locals seemed pretty excited by it, but all Shiro felt was a swirling anxiety.

Ever since the galra had captured him he'd lost a sense of certainty about the world; his own existence seemed provisional, his continued survival unlikely. Sometimes nothing good seemed real. He'd known that there were always risks inherent in going to space, but nevertheless he'd expected to return, had promised Keith blithely that he'd be back.

And he'd guessed at the toll breaking that promise had taken on Keith. The fact that he still had his complete trust was painful sometimes, but he didn't know how he'd cope without it.

So he'd salved his conscience by anointing Keith his successor in the Black Lion but he hadn't followed through, hadn't told him what had happened while the others had visited the mall. Every time Keith tried to bond with Black he was running the risk that Zarkon might ambush him. At least it hadn't happened yet. He was still alive, still searching for Shiro.

He wondered how that battle had gone. Maybe they'd defeated Zarkon entirely, but he couldn't bring himself to be that optimistic.  And round his thoughts went again.

“Shiro?”

It was Allura, and if nothing else Shiro was intensely glad she was here. Like Keith, she was slightly different to the Allura he knew, more reserved, but she'd been revived a prisoner, forced to rely on Thace, a galra, to escape, and stuck in a universe without the Castle and with only one Lion.

She'd let her hair down, and had swapped her ragged dress for a Blade of Marmora suit. He wondered if she'd gotten any rest since Thace had woken her, but didn't feel he knew her well enough to order her to get some.

“Did you need something?” he asked, as she joined him at the window, bracing her hands on the windowsill and staring down at the Lion. “How did the talk with Kolivan go?”

She pulled a face. “Well, it went.”

“You didn't trust the galra at first in my universe either,” Shiro said.

“I trust that they want to defeat Zarkon as much as I do,” she replied. “Thace explained a lot to me while we were travelling to Marmora, and he risked his life many times to help save mine.  It's not that I don't trust them. But I don't believe Voltron should now belong to the Blade just because they're helping liberate it. Two of the Paladins will be galra, is that not enough? Kolivan doesn't think I have the military experience to fight this war.” She sighed. “How did I cope in your universe?”

“The circumstances were different,” Shiro said. “We'd fought Zarkon several times before we made contact with the Blade.  But  I believe in you,” he said, because it was true. Until now he hadn't really been convinced they'd be able to form Voltron, even if they acquired all the Lions.  They needed Allura's guidance.  “The other  P aladins were  only cadets  who had never even been to space before ,  but even if you had your doubts about us  you never showed them. Regardless of who piloted the Black Lion, you led us.”

“I turned the Castle's defences on you,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I'm not sure what I was thinking.”

“Making it up as you went along?”

“Probably.” She sighed. “Kolivan shouldn't worry. I was always far better at military tactics than diplomacy.” She looked at the Lion, and her expression firmed. “How long do you think we have before Zarkon finds the Black Lion again?”

“I don't know. He must know we'll be coming after the other Lions though.”

“Yes. We've no time to waste.” She pushed herself upright and looked at him. “Thank you, Shiro. I promise I intend to get you home as soon as possible. I'm going to call a meeting. Everyone needs to talk about this, not just Kolivan and I. Voltron is about working together, ultimately people all across the galaxy have their part to play.” She raised her head, and the tiredness in her face gave her more gravitas, counteracting her youth. “I can't reach them yet, but I will, and I'll start here.”

Shiro said he'd catch her up, needing a few minutes to brace himself. He had to focus; drowning in guilt wasn't going to help anyone in either universe. As Allura's footsteps faded, Shiro felt superfluous and it was something of a relief.

The would-be paladins gathered, Takashi and Keith arriving together, which didn’t surprise Shiro at all.

“We need to get the Red Lion first,” Keith said, without waiting for anyone else to speak. “We have the black bayard, and Takashi can use his hand; it makes sense to get the Lion that will be fully operational from the start.”

“Keith makes a good point about the prosthetic,” Ulaz said. “I wasn’t getting very far with altean tech, but Shiro and Takashi’s hands aren’t altean tech, or rather, they’ve passed through years of galra development since.” He grinned, showing his pointed teeth. “I’m much more familiar with that. So, I’ve managed to construct what I hope will serve to unlock the abilities of the Lions, even if they won’t serve as weapons the way the original bayards do.”

“Are you sure these will work?” Thace asked, as Ulaz produced a number of bulky gloves.

“No,” he said cheerfully. “But we’ve got to start somewhere. Pilfered quintessence was where I started.”

“We’d better hope they work,” Kolivan said. “We can’t afford to pick the Lions up one by one. Security will increase for each remaining Lion as they grow more desperate to keep Voltron out of our hands. We have to hit them all at once.”

“I agree,” Allura said, and Kolivan couldn’t quite manage to hide his surprise. “It will mean splitting our forces, but we have no other choice. In Shiro’s universe only one Lion was in the Empire’s hands; the Paladins could focus all their forces on it. We don’t have that luxury. But we do have more resources.”

“If you can make those wormholes we can catch them by surprise,” Takashi suggested.

Allura looked apologetic. “The Lions do react to altean energy, but without the castle to focus my abilities, I couldn’t possibly do more than one jump at a time.”

“So we have to do this the old-fashioned way,” Kolivan said. “By collecting data and co-ordinating our forces.”

“Attacking four fleets at once with conventional weapons?” Thace asked. “Risky. Do we even have enough resources?”

“We don’t need to defeat them,” Allura said. “We just need to get the pilots to the Lions.”

“And away again. You don’t have the Castle to run in,” Kolivan said. “Now will be the time to pull in the favours we are owed. We’ll hire help if we have to.”

“Bounty hunters?” Keith asked, raising his eyebrows. “Won’t they turn around and betray us to the Empire?”

“Keep them on a need-to-know basis,” Thace said. “And hope.”

Allura frowned, clearly not happy with the situation, but no one was, and she ventured no objection.

“We need to get our forces in position as fast as possible. That means moving now,” Kolivan said. “We know where the fleets are, but it will take us time to meet them.”

Allura caught up with Shiro as the meeting broke up. “I need to talk to you,” she said. She was looking straight ahead, her expression grim. “This isn’t going to work. Even with the best will in the world, no one will have the military capability to go up against the Empire’s battleships. I’m not going to get the Yellow Lion. Not right away.”

“Princess?”

“You’ve had some experience with the Castle’s systems, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never flown it myself.”

“You’ll just have to pick it up. We need the Castle. The Lions will be recaptured without it.”

“Why aren’t you telling Kolivan this?”

She smiled, faintly. “I decided it was best to keep it on a need-to-know basis, and he doesn’t need to know.”

“Princess-”

“I need to prove I can do this, and that I don’t need his permission. Are you going to help me?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get going.”

The teams were getting ready to leave. Thace and Ulaz had the furthest to go and their ships had already gone by the time Shiro and Allura were ready. Keith and Takashi were waiting by the Black Lion; no one had suggested that they wouldn’t be on the same team.

“I’m kind of nervous,” Takashi said. “You said Red’s pretty picky, right?”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Shiro said.

“Hey, good luck,” Keith said. To Shiro’s infinite surprise, he stepped right up to him and gave him a somewhat awkward hug, patting him on the back and then stepping back with a relieved expression, which suggested he’d had to nerve himself up.

“You too.”

Allura spent most of the trip curled up in the co-pilot’s seat, sleeping. The auto-pilot was handling the controls, but Shiro didn’t try and doze off as well. He knew himself better than to try.

This system was familiar to Shiro; the Castle was in the same spot it had been in his universe, and all was quiet. Their little ship zoomed in, and Shiro knew about now the Blades’ forces would be pinging Empire radars.

“Surely he would have left someone on guard,” Shiro muttered.

Allura didn’t say anything, and her face was hidden behind the cowl of her suit, but her focus was evident in the way she leaned forward in her seat.

They descended through the atmosphere, and Allura pointed. “There’s the Castle!” At least it was intact.

“Zarkon shouldn’t even have been able to get in,” Allura said. “Even if he had collected the Lions.”

“Maybe Black let him in,” Shiro said, as they landed in front of the castle.

“Maybe.”

Silence descended. It felt like a trap.

They exited their ship and approached the Castle of Lions on foot, the familiar smooth shape a welcome sight to Shiro’s eyes, even as he distrusted the placid atmosphere.

The doors slid open at Allura’s approach, and Haggar attacked. Shiro hurled himself out of the way of her dark lightning, and he saw Allura diving to the other side.

“Ah yes, the universe-hopping Champion.” Her voice triggered tremors in Shiro’s subconscious, as submerged memories threatened to float free to the surface of his mind and he tried to clamp down on them. Focus.

He’d rather it had been Zarkon himself waiting for them, as Haggar’s dark, twisted shape seemed to multiply in the comparative gloom of the Castle interior. Haggar’s lightning pursued him as he ran, dancing along the wall behind him.

Allura ran at her, swinging the staff she’d borrowed from the blades, and Haggar ducked, and blasted her off course.

“Sit down, girl!” Her voice was as hard as a whip-crack.

“Stay back!” Shiro called, and to his surprise Haggar turned on him again. Of course, in this universe Allura was merely an escaped prisoner; one who had help to escape, no less. They knew her only as a frozen child, yanked out of time.

No one from this universe had any idea what Allura was capable of.

“Pretend to give in,” Shiro muttered into his communicator. “I’ll distract her. Give you an opening.”

It meant what it always meant, that there was nowhere to hide in the arena, nowhere to run. Nothing left to do but turn and fight, and hope in doing so you could save yourself, save others. The stairs leading up were a false promise of safety; he’d have nowhere to go, none of the alcoves that lined the walls to hide in, so he ignored them.

Allura groaned and stirred slowly, as if she could barely crawl, but her staff was still gripped firmly in her fist.

Shiro ducked and dodged, and flipped back when Haggar teleported next to him, trying to get her between him and Allura. He saw Allura slowly curl a leg up under herself, her fingertips braced on the floor like a runner at the starting blocks.

It was now or never. He turned on Haggar, his hand flaring as he drew it back, yelling through his helmet as he struck out at her. For a split second he thought maybe he wouldn’t need Allura’s help, as he jabbed glowing fingers right at Haggar’s slitted eyes. His hand connected with nothing, the druid dissolving like smoke as he stumbled through the space where she’d been, and then he was yanked up into the air as bands of dark quintessence wrapped around him, snaking around his jaw, pinning his arms to his sides, constricting his middle. He wheezed, trying to draw breath.

“I thought there might be something interesting about you.”

He wriggled harder, trying to break free, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

“But you’re no better than our Champion. A resilient test subject, nothing more. You should have stayed in the-”

Haggar was abruptly cut off, and Shiro dropped to the floor, wheezing, and forcing his leaden limbs to move, to crawl away from the vortex of energy as Haggar tried to fend off Allura’s attacks, the princess’s staff crackling with power. Haggar was hunched over, and slowly backing away as Allura yelled at her. Shiro could only hear one word in three, but he heard something about ‘father’ and ‘Altea’ and her diatribe was cut short as Haggar finally utterly disappeared.

“Come back and face me!” Allura yelled, her chest heaving as she looked about in case there were more enemies. The room was empty. “Shiro!” she hurried over, kneeling down beside him.

“I’m fine,” he wheezed. “Just bruised. We have to make sure she’s gone.”

“The Castle’s systems recognised her somehow,” Allura said. “A mystery for another time, perhaps.” She helped him to his feet, and they set about searching the Castle for any other enemies. They found a couple of galra manning the defence systems who promptly surrendered, having seen Haggar retreat. Allura let them leave rather than try and deal with prisoners. They didn’t have time.

“You need to learn how to fly this castle,” Allura said, as she booted up the systems. “Looks like everything works at least, although I don’t know how well.”

“Who do we help first?” Shiro asked, as he watched the engine outputs.

“We’ll get the Yellow Lion last,” Allura said. “Input Thace’s co-ordinates. We’ll help him and Ulaz first; they’ll probably need it. Takashi has Keith.” Allura gave a little laugh. “I can’t wait to see Kolivan’s face when we turn up in this.”

Shiro couldn’t help but smile, despite the fight ahead of them. He’d missed her.

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

Keith thought things were going pretty well, all things considered. He’d decided to use the Black Lion as a distraction, and he’d certainly managed to get their attention. As he feinted and pulled away, the Blades and their allies provided further confusing crossfire, and somewhere in the mess of ships and laser fire Takashi was making his way to the battle cruiser at the heart of the fleet that contained the Red Lion.

Keith had been very curious about how his counterpart had become a paladin, and Shiro had told him the story a couple of times at his request. At the time he’d wondered if he’d ever be so reckless as to get himself jettisoned into space the way the other Keith had.

Now it didn’t matter, and he had every faith that Takashi’s impulsive streak would be enough to impress the Red Lion. He just had to get to it in one piece.

The cannon on the top of the battle cruiser was capable of obliterating several friendly ships with a single shot, and Keith focused on trying to take it out of commission, dodging the fighters all the while.

The Lion was amazing; it was everything he’d wished for, big and powerful and responsive. He already knew that no other ship would possibly compare, and he kind of understood why Zarkon was so upset at losing it.

He did wish it had a few laser cannons of its own, however.

Takashi was still somewhere within the bowels of the fleet’s flagship. Thace and Ulaz would have an advantage there; they were both familiar with the layout of the Empire’s ships, and as galra were perfectly capable of blending in and activating and deactivating the ship’s subsystems as necessary.

Takashi had his arm. It would have to be enough.

The Blades and their allies had pulled back, now that Takashi had successfully infiltrated the ship. There was no chance of actually defeating the Empire’s fleet, and their mission accomplished they were beating an orderly retreat. Only Keith stayed close, relying on the Black Lion and his own skills to keep him alive as he waited to escort Takashi to safety.

“I’m in!” Takashi announced. “And I’m on my way.”

“Did you have any trouble?” Keith asked, peeling away from the ship to draw off some of the fighters.

“I punched the hangar doors in and its eyes lit up,” Takashi said.

“I’m not surprised,” Keith replied dryly. “Let’s get out of here. I hope the others are doing okay.” He looped around to see the Red Lion dart out from under the ship and duck and dodge around the fighters, seeking open space. “That thing is fast,” Keith said, impressed. “Don’t leave me behind.”

“I would never.” The Red Lion circled back, and Takashi added, “You know, Red’s a lot smaller than I expected.”

Despite some valiant attempts to draw fire from the remaining Blades, the fleet was now focused, and they both had to fling their Lions about, trying to dodge all the fire. 

“We have to get out of here,” Takashi said. “Is there somewhere nearby we could try and lose them?”

“We might have to run for the nearest system; try and hide in the heat signature of the star,” Keith said. He started calculating the distance to the nearest sun, and as he watched a great swirling hole in space opened up ahead of them. “Pull up! Pull up!” he shouted.

“What _is_ that?” Takashi asked as the darkness swelled. “It looks like a wormhole.”

But it wasn’t Zarkon’s ship that sailed out of it. It was like nothing Keith had ever seen; white and sleek, and seemingly without weapons. There was something a little unnerving about its very smoothness.

“So, who’s that?” Takashi asked.

“I have no idea.”

He was debating whether or not to hail them when the decision was made for him.

“Hello, paladins,” Shiro’s voice filled his helmet, and Keith laughed out loud in delight. “All aboard, we’ve got one more stop to make.”

The fleet guarding the Yellow Lion was not prepared for the arrival of the other four, and Allura secured her Lion with very little trouble at all, although by the time they’d escaped with the Lions the Castle’s various unmaintained and ancient systems were threatening to fail around Ulaz as he worked feverishly in the engine room to keep them running, and Allura was swaying on her feet from the effort it took to make multiple wormholes in a short space of time.

Nevertheless, she was smiling triumphantly when they regrouped with the Blades. Now she was the host, as the Castle was by now the largest ship in the revolutionaries’ armada.

“This is an unexpected development,” Kolivan said, his face so carefully expressionless that even Keith had no idea what he’d made of all of this. He felt a bit sorry for him; the agenda that the Blades had been working to for centuries had come completely unstuck. He probably felt he was being replaced.

“I decided it was necessary to get the Castle first,” Allura said.

“A risky decision,” Kolivan said.

“Yes, I accept that.”

“And now you have both it and Voltron. What do you intend to do next?”

Allura glanced at Shiro for a moment. “The Castle’s falling apart; it needs urgent repairs if we’re to stand a chance, and the paladins must learn to form Voltron as quickly as possible.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s not enough. I hope we will be able to send Shiro back to his home universe soon, so I’ll need someone else to help me fly the Castle.”

“Are you offering me a job?” Kolivan asked, almost amused.

“I’m asking for your help.”

“I see. I might have misjudged you, Princess.”

“I don’t blame you for that. What matters is what we do now.”

“We work together, then. Whatever the Castle needs, we’ll try and find.”

“Thank you,” Allura said, her shoulders dropping slightly. What had she expected? Of course they were going to help, Keith thought.

“And if I might make a suggestion, Princess,” Kolivan added. “Get some rest.”

Allura paused for a moment and then nodded. “I think I will. We’ll talk more later.”

Keith had lost track of how long it had been since he’d last slept; definitely sometime before they’d rescued Thace and Allura. The castle was huge, nothing like the Blades’ Headquarters, and there were more than enough rooms, each twice the size of Keith’s own. He felt a little exposed in the unfamiliar ship, and kept his suit on to sleep, shifting around on the weirdly soft bed until he found a spot to curl up comfortably, his blade safely tucked under the pillow alongside the black bayard.

When Keith woke up hours later, the Castle was eerily quiet. He soon realised that this was because several of its systems had been shut down for urgent maintenance.

“Don’t worry,” Ulaz informed him cheerfully. “The life-support is still fine. For now.” He offered to help, but lacked any great knowledge of engineering and found himself surplus to requirements.

He went looking for food and Takashi, in no particular order. He found the former, and once sated he set off in more dedicated search of the latter. They hadn’t had time to speak since they’d recovered the Lions, but Takashi’s expression had told him everything he needed to know.

He wasn’t in the hangar. Keith bid Black a good morning, but wasn’t really surprised not to get a response. He paused for a moment and stared at the five Lions, his heart swelling with pride at what they’d achieved.

Shiro was in the control room with Kolivan, and Keith didn’t stay long, but it did glance back at Shiro for a moment, feeling a strange sort of melancholy. We are Black Paladins, he thought, and he wished he’d known earlier, wished he’d seen that similarity more clearly. Whatever happened, he was going to remember the example Shiro had set.

He was hurrying down to the training rooms, by now wondering if Takashi was still asleep, when he practically ran into the man himself coming the other way.

“There you are!” Takashi grinned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Likewise,” Keith replied, feeling his mood lifting just to see his friend. His Red Paladin.

“This Castle’s pretty amazing, even broken down like this. It can make all sorts of stuff, except actual food.”

“What is it with you humans and food? What’s wrong with goo?”

Takashi looked him in the eye, “Someday, Keith, you and I are going on a food tour of Earth. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” Keith had to lengthen his stride to keep up, as Takashi kept walking. “I was thinking about how we’re paladins now. We’ve got to look the part. People have to recognise us, even if we're wearing the masks.”

“Right.” Keith had no clue where this was going. Or where they were going.

They were going to one of the engineering areas. It looked a bit of a mess, but how much was Takashi’s doing Keith couldn’t say. Takashi showed him a row of tins set out along the work table.

“Paint,” he said proudly, taking the lid off one to show Keith the contents. “One of every colour.” He paused. “I uh, wanted to get your opinion before I told the others.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Keith said. It would give them something to do at least, since everyone else seemed occupied.

“Yeah? Good. I thought it might be fun.”

And how long has it been, Keith wondered, since either of us had any fun?

“Let’s give it a try now. We can show the others the finished product,” he suggested. He looked about at the various pieces of delicate equipment he had no idea how to use. “Maybe not in here though.”

The bathrooms seemed the most sensible place. Keith had been rather put off by their luxury; hot water could be coaxed out of every tap. This wasn’t a battleship, it was a royal pleasure barge as far as he was concerned.

But there was a big tiled space that could be easily cleaned and Takashi set down two pots of paint, one red and one black on a bench.

“Right.” Takashi looked at the brush in his hand for a moment, and then he offered it to Keith. “You do it.”

“You want me to paint you?”

“If you don’t mind.” A little smile was hovering around his lips, like a challenge. Keith realised this wasn’t necessarily going to be a straightforward de-stresser.

“Alright.” He accepted the brush.

Takashi redid his hair while he waited for Keith to take the lid off the tin of red paint, untying it and retying it so it was up out of the way. The red paint would show up well against the suit, Keith thought, his own black would be far more subtle. Takashi waited while Keith looked him up and down, wondering where to start. There was a lot of territory to choose from.

He dipped the brush in the paint, and started somewhere easy, drawing a long stripe up the outside of Takashi’s left arm, the brush gliding over the contours of his muscles below the dark material of the suit. The red was brilliant, almost glowing against the dark blue, as Keith went back for more and painted up over Takashi’s shoulder, and overshot the collar of his suit slightly, leaving a streak of red on his neck.

“Ah, sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

Takashi shrugged. “I’ll wash it off later. Paint my hand, too.”

Keith did his best with Takashi’s prosthetic, and then his other arm. Then he painted a stripe across his back, dipping the brush down over his shoulder blades. He was starting to envy the brush a little. He couldn’t see Takashi’s face from this angle, and he couldn’t see him either. It made him bold.

He got Takashi to lift his arm, and painted down his ribs, over his hip, the outside of his thigh, ending up on his knees as he got paint on the floor adding a strip to his boots. He made the mistake of glancing up and meeting Takashi’s gaze for a moment and was nearly transfixed. There was nothing threatening about Takashi, despite the way he towered over him, it was something else that made his heart beat faster.

“Other side,” he said, his own voice sounding distant over the blood pounding in his ears. Surely it wasn’t just him. Please let it not just be me, he thought as he applied paint down Takashi’s other leg.

He wasn’t quite game to meet Takashi’s eyes as he stepped up to paint a stripe across his chest in imitation of the V decorating Shiro’s armour. He’d seen Takashi’s doppelganger naked plenty of times while they were working their way up through the arena, and he tried not to think about what he knew, the exact placement of his nipples, the curve of his pectorals. It didn't seem fair to having this information without Takashi sharing it himself.

The V was slightly wobbly. He tried again, neatening up the edges, feeling Takashi’s gaze burning through the top of his head, knowing he couldn’t feel the brush through the suit. Probably couldn't.

“Okay.” His voice sounded weird; quiet and breathless. He cleared his throat and tried again. “All done.” He met Takashi’s eyes because he was not a coward. “My turn.”

Takashi nodded, like he didn’t quite trust himself to speak. Keith waited, his heart pounding while Takashi washed out the brush. If there was a little bit of red in the black, Keith didn’t think he’d mind anyway.

Takashi was gentle and Keith realised he could feel the brush, just slightly, and shivered as Takashi swiped it along his collarbones, up the collar of his suit. He was precise, careful, slower than Keith had been. He seemed to have his own vision too, spending a couple of minutes drawing stripes across Keith’s back. He'd been thinking about it, Keith realised, planned it all out, imagined where he'd slide the brush across his body.

When he knelt at Keith’s feet, Keith had to fight the urge to put his hand in Takashi's long, white hair, brush it away from his face. The brush seemed to take forever to traverse his legs. He’d never been in this sort of situation before, and he didn’t know what to do with himself, so he did nothing, forgetting and remembering to breathe by turns, feeling light-headed, his skin tingling in the wake of Takashi’s brush, his fingers twitching with the desire to do something.

When Takashi stood to paint Keith’s chest his mouth was level with Keith’s eye line, and Keith stared at his lips, which pursed slightly in concentration as he applied the brush. When he finished he didn’t step away, merely lifted his gaze. He had a smudge of black next to his nose.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Like it?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, not even bothering to look down. I want, he thought, swaying slightly towards him like he was magnetic. “Takashi, I think-” What was he thinking?

Takashi caught his hand before he realised he’d raised it. “Careful where you touch,” he said, his fingers wrapping around Keith’s. “The paint’s still wet.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, in stationary unstable orbit, and Keith didn’t know if he invented it himself, or if he was mirroring Takashi’s movements but he leaned in and pressed his mouth against Takashi’s slightly parted lips. It was awkward and strange, and it felt like exactly what he’d been waiting to do the whole time.

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

 Mindful of the paint, Keith pressed his free hand against Takashi's stomach, as he heard the clatter of the brush hitting the floor moments before he felt Takashi's talons scrape lightly against the back of his neck as he cradled his head. His mouth was hot and slick and he smelled like the paint, heady and possibly flammable. Keith closed his eyes and opened his mouth to Takashi's tongue, feeling his heartbeat through the palm against his stomach.

He wanted to get closer, heat-seeking, he ached to be touched, anywhere would do but this was not enough. He stepped forward, stopped himself, and wished they hadn't covered each other in wet paint as he made a soft sound of frustration. They were connected by hands and lips and nowhere else and he focused on Takashi's mouth, the faint scrape of regrowth on his chin.

Takashi pulled away, just slightly, his eyes gleaming under the shock of white hair that fell across his face. He smiled, looking incredibly pleased with himself, but a bit shy as well.

“I was hoping you'd want to,” he said. “I mean, you're pretty incredible.”

Keith thought he was an undersized half-breed, really, but Takashi was so sincere it shone out of his eyes, and maybe he was a bit incredible. It was hard to argue against it. His whole body felt like it had an electric current running through it, his heartbeat was sparking in his chest like he was broken.

He didn't know what to say so he kissed Takashi again, taking the lead this time, because he'd hoped that's what he was supposed to do and Takashi accepted him eagerly.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he confessed hoarsely, and Takashi nuzzled him gently, dragging his nose and then his lips across Keith's cheek.

“It's fine. No one does at first.” That wasn't quite as reassuring as Takashi probably hoped.

I don't know any other humans, he wanted to wail, I don't know _anything._ He didn't say it, he was too proud, just clung on to the fact that his parents had managed somehow.

Keith dug his fingers into the material of Takashi's suit. “How long is this paint going to take to dry?” Keith asked, and then wondered if he should have said something more romantic. That was what this was, right? Romance?

Takashi laughed, his abs tensing under Keith's hand, and he supposed it wasn't entirely the wrong thing to say. “I don't know exactly. A couple of hours maybe.”

“What? What are we supposed to do until then? Stand around and look at each other? We can't even sit down.” Keith stepped back in surprise, unable to stop himself pouting slightly and Takashi let him go and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn't really think it through,” he admitted. “I guess I got carried away.” He looked so apologetic Keith immediately felt bad for chastising him.

“No big deal,” he said. “Help me take it off.”

“What?” Takashi's eyes went wide and Keith almost laughed. Instead he reached up and undid the catch at the nape of his neck.

“Make sure it doesn't wrinkle up and smudge the paint,” Keith said, delighting in the way Takashi scraped his teeth across his lower lip as he sucked in a breath. This was too much fun.

Takashi nodded and Keith undid the rest of the catches, twisting the button that had them sliding back into the edges of the suit, which split open down his spine. Normally he'd just shrug it off and leave it in a puddle, but this time he stretched his hand out and Takashi loosened the glove from each of his fingers in turn, before holding it still so he could withdraw his hand and arm, his shoulder breaching the split in the back of the suit, the air cool on his bare skin.

The procedure quickly grew more awkward than sexy, and by the time Keith practically fell on his arse trying to step out of the legs without bending them much they were both laughing. He stood there in his boxers while Takashi hung the suit up.

“Your turn,” Keith said.

“Uh, yeah,” Takashi looked down at himself, frowning. Before Keith could ask him what was wrong, he reached back and started on the catches. It took him a couple of goes, unused as he was still to the suit.

He'd seen Shiro and Shiro's scars, so he wasn't surprised by what he found when Takashi's shoulders and back breached the suit, but it didn't seem right to remind Takashi of that fact. He didn't really know what to do; unsure if Takashi wanted reassurance or if he'd prefer it wasn't mentioned at all, so he just helped him out of the suit and wished things were different, easier.

“Kills the mood, doesn't it?” Takashi said quietly once they were done, as he knelt down to pack away the paint. Keith made sure the design on his suit was still intact and hung it up next to his own. It was already starting to dry, losing the sheen of wet paint.

Keith shrugged, and then realised Takashi wasn't looking at him so he was obliged to say something as well.

“Well it's not like I'm any better,” he said. “It's not like I ever thought I'd meet anyone- and anyway, there are no humans on TV or in stories so I don't even know what you're supposed to do or even what this, really.”

Shiro or Takashi, it didn't matter, give them someone else to look after and their own problems suddenly aren't a priority because Takashi crossed the room and wrapped his arms around him, skin on skin, and Keith's breath abandoned him, because he'd never felt anything like this, never been so close to someone as long as he could remember. His mother might have held him, but he'd forgotten.

“I don't know exactly either,” Takashi said. “But I want to take you home someday, Keith. I want to show you Earth. I want to save the universe with you and then I want, well, I _don't_ want to scare you off. So.”

“You're not scary,” Keith said, and hugged him back, felt the ridges of old scars over the smooth curve of muscle on his back, pressed his cheek to Takashi's broad chest, breathed him in.

“That's not quite what I meant,” Takashi said. “But I'm glad you think so.”

Keith felt a horrible churning feeling like he was going to start crying, and he forced it down, for now at least, and took a deep shaky breath.

“Anyone could walk in on us, you know,” he said, stepping away as soon as he said it, as if voicing the possibility would suddenly make it real.

“We need clothes too. I'm sure there are some somewhere around here.”

“There's a closet in my room,” Keith said, calculating how far away it was and wishing he knew more about Altean ventilation ducts. There was probably one in Takashi's room too, but Takashi didn't mention it, instead opening the door and peering out into the corridor.

“Coast's clear,” he said, and held out his hand.

Keith hesitated for a moment and then took it; if anyone spotted them running around in their underwear it wouldn't make much difference whether or not they were holding hands.

Takashi took off at a run, and Keith had to drag him in the right direction of the elevator, laughing at the ludicrousness of the situation. They waited impatiently for the elevator and tumbled in as soon as the doors opened, and they were safe, briefly, as it shot back up to deck with the living quarters.

Takashi sort of swung Keith into his arms, and Keith let himself be pulled, breathless, his feet cold. They had time to kiss again, briefly, and Takashi's prosthetic was warm against the small of his back, and the rest of him warm against his front, knees to shoulders, his arms around Takashi's neck, fingers working to untie his his hair. He wanted to know what it felt like, if it was as soft as it looked, like his own.

He'd gotten so lost in kissing he jumped when the doors opened again. He just wanted to do this for hours, forever even. He couldn't get enough of Takashi's mouth; he didn't know why, but he was starving for it. No one was waiting on the other side and he ran to his room and beckoned Takashi in after him, closing the door with a sigh of relief.

“Made it!” He put his back to the door and they stared at each other in fond and slightly embarrassed silence for a few moments. Keith bit his lip as he looked Takashi up and down, barely seeing the scars, mesmerised. It was only when he made it up to Takashi's eyes did he realise he was doing the exact same thing and Keith ducked his head, shy. “What now?” he asked.

“Whatever you want.” Takashi shrugged, and reached up to finish the job of untying his hair that Keith had started and then forgotten about. He ran his fingers through it, untangling the worst of the snarls, and Keith stared.

“Can I touch that?” he asked.

“Touch what?” Takashi asked, his gaze flicking down for a moment.

“Your hair.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling on a strand. “I started growing it out when I was in the arena,” he said. “It was the only thing I could control about myself. They didn't care. They could chop off limbs but hair didn't interest them.”

Keith pushed off from the door and took Takashi's human hand, tugging him towards the bed. It was still too cold, and Takashi followed him under the blanket, and Keith wrapped his arms around him, Takashi curling down against his chest so Keith could nuzzle his hair, which spread out across the pillow.

His hair was slightly coarser than Keith's own, long and straight and flowed through his fingers like water. Takashi sighed happily as Keith played, scratching at his undercut and stroking the long strands above it.

Keith laughed, slightly tickled as he felt Takashi's lips on his chest and then he gasped as they found a nipple and sucked gently. He wriggled down to Takashi's level; he wanted to try that too, and Takashi scraped his teeth up Keith's neck as he did so. By the time their mouths met again Keith was panting. Somehow his leg had become hooked over Takashi's hip and when the human pushed up against him Keith practically saw stars as Takashi's clothed cock butted up against his own.

Keith pressed himself closer, tightening the grip with his leg as Takashi's talons gently gripped his arse, urging him on. They found a rhythm, and Keith strained his ears to hear Takashi's gasping of his own unsteady breathing, wanting to hear as well as feel and taste and smell what he was doing to him.

Takashi was quiet though, muffled. They both were, hiding under the blanket, slipping and grinding against each other with graceless urgency. Keith grabbed a fistful of Takashi's hair, tugging gently as Takashi nipped at his lips.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Keith chanted, as he felt himself about to come. He couldn't stop it, and Takashi urged him on, his cock digging almost painfully into the hollow above Keith's hip.

“Yeah,” Takashi breathed, and that was it, Keith gasped for air, his hips juddering and he felt the soft, sticky warmth filling his boxers. “Thatwassohot,” Takashi mumbled and kissed him through his own orgasm, his forehead wrinkled with effort as Keith kissed him back, eyes open, trying not to miss a thing.

Keith shifted onto his back, wanting to preserve the bed, even if he'd managed somehow to completely soil, one way or another, every item of clothing he currently owned. It was kind of gross; he knew if he looked he'd find his pubes clumped together with come. Takashi didn't look bothered by anything, however, cuddling up against him and kissing the side of his face and Keith couldn't resist kissing him back. His hair was all tangled up, and his face was flushed. He was kind of irresistible, Keith decided.

“I'm so glad I went to space,” Takashi said.

“Really? After everything that happened to you?”

“It wasn't all bad.” He sounded a bit drowsy. “And you know, I was thinking about you, out here, never knowing anyone else that looked like you. Not knowing what your other home world as like.”

“I didn't know what I was missing out on.”

“You still don't,” he said. “I'm gonna show you though. You're gonna love it.”

He was looking forward to it.

They found some robes in the closet and returned to the bathroom with none of the urgency they'd had when they left. There were slippers and things too, but neither of them cared that much.

The elevator slowed halfway and when the doors opened Shiro was standing on the other side.

“I was looking for,” he trailed off as he took in their outfits. Takashi had tided his hair and Keith had rubbed all the spit off his lips, but Shiro knew them both unfairly well, and Takashi was going bright red under his surprised gaze, so he supposed there was no point in denying anything.

Shiro didn't ask them anyway. He gave a strange, awkward smile and cleared his throat. “I was looking for you,” he started again, holding the button to keep the doors open. “Allura's feeling better and wants to talk to all of us.”

“We've got something to show her too,” Keith said. “Well, everyone. Takashi thought of it.”

“Yeah, we haven't just been sitting around,” Takashi said.

Shiro shrugged and smiled. “It wouldn't matter if you did. You deserve a rest. I'll see you in the control room then.”

“Yep!” Keith said, and immediately wished he hadn't used such a perky tone of voice. What was wrong with him? Was he ever going to be normal again? When Shiro let the doors close he sagged against the wall. “Do you think he's gonna tell them?” he asked as they started descending again.

“No,” Takashi said, without hesitation. “I don't know if that'll make any difference though.”

Keith was just glad Antok was still back at the headquarters; he would have seen through him in an instant. Takashi caught his eye and Keith smiled at him, unable to bring himself to regret a thing.

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

As the elevator whisked Takashi and Keith away, Shiro stood at the doors trying to decide how he felt. Relief and pride warred with surge of what he recognised as envy. He could read his own face, and Takashi's had spoke volumes, but it was Keith that stuck in his mind, looking as soft and happy as he'd ever seen him in this universe.

Why had he assumed it would be the same here? Why wouldn't they fall in together like that?

Why hadn't he? Because he'd been gone so long, felt so guilty about it. Because he thought it would never work; Keith had so few friends, so few people he trusted. To try and change their relationship felt like a betrayal. If he broke them, Shiro knew he'd never forgive himself. He hadn't really considered the alternative until it had appeared before him, in the flesh, all smiles and loose limbs, and he wanted it too. He had for a long time.

If he got home. _When_ he got home, what was he going to do about this?

Later. He turned and made his way to the control room.

Keith and Takashi arrived a few minutes later, to show off their handiwork.

“What an excellent idea,” Ulaz said, examining the pots of paint.

“It defeats the purpose of camouflage,” Kolivan pointed out. “Although I suppose you're not going to making many stealth missions in the Lions.”

Allura looked a bit nonplussed. “But the original uniforms are still in the Ca-”

“It might be a good bonding exercise,” Thace said. “Princess.”

“Well, I suppose it might be fun,” she said, catching his eye and then looking away. “Yellow and blue do look nicer than yellow and white. And bonding is important; we have to work together to form Voltron. From what Shiro told us, it might not be easy at first.”

“Should I turn the castle defences on you to accelerate the process?” Kolivan asked.

“Are they even working?”

Ulaz wiggled his hand. “Sort of. I wouldn't like to come under sustained fire in this state. The manuals are all in altean; the translation software isn't perfect.”

Shiro watched them talk. He had little to contribute now, and it didn't bother him at all. If anything, it was a relief. It wouldn't be easy, but they could take it from here. When he'd arrived in this universe the situation had seemed so hopeless, the battle swung so far in Zarkon's favour, anything he could contribute was necessary.

Now he found himself wondering how his own universe was fairing with more urgency. Black responded to Keith to a certain extent, and he wondered now if he'd be able to pilot Red if needed, but it might not be enough to form Voltron. Occupied by these thoughts he tuned out the rest of the conversation, his gaze fixed on the floor as he looked somewhere beyond it.

Eventually he felt someone watching him and he looked up to meet Keith's violet eyes.

He inclined his head, and Shiro realised the general meeting had broken up as Keith walked out. Takashi watched him but didn't make a move to follow, instead letting Ulaz examine his painted hand.

Keith didn't wait for him, and Shiro lengthened his stride to catch up to him.

“Is something wrong?” Shiro asked.

“No. Yes. No.” Keith stopped and faced him, his expression sombre despite the faint smile on his lips. “I want to try and send you home.”

“Right now?” Shiro blinked in surprise.

Keith set his jaw and nodded. “I don't know if I'm good enough yet, so I didn't want to make a big deal about it.” He took a deep breath. “I'm gonna miss you, and then I was thinking about how the other Keith has been missing you all this time, and all your other friends too, and I guess I realised how selfish we were, keeping you here.”

“You're not keeping me, we didn't have-”

“I know, I know.” He smiled. “Shiro, you saved us. When I think about how far we've come since you appeared, about Takashi.” He flushed slightly but ploughed on. “We owe you so much, I owe you so much; I feel like I know what my place is now, who I'm meant to be. And it doesn't matter so much that I'm not pure galra.”

“You're going to do to great, I know it,” Shiro said.

Keith nodded, and Shiro's eyes widened in surprise as he leaned up and kissed his cheek, his lips dry and warm.

“Good luck, Shiro. Did you want to say goodbye, just in case this works?”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder, and thought about the important planning going on in the control room and shook his head. “Best not, just in case it doesn't.” He already knew what Takashi would say, and he didn't know the others that well; he didn't need their thanks anyway. Keith spoke for all of them.

They went down to the hanger, the Lions waiting silently for them.

“I'm just gonna stay in the hangar,” Keith said, as he sat in Black's pilot seat. “There's no need to fly about.” He watched as Shiro put on his helmet and then nodded firmly. “Okay Black, help me out here.”

Shiro watched as Keith closed his eyes, frowning slightly, his hands just resting on the controls. This might not work, he thought, but he had to try. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to reach out to the Lion the way he had in the past.

She was there, waiting for them, and he almost sensed Keith beside him, small compared to the Lion, which grew in his mind, looming over them, eyes glowing. The Black Lion threw back her head and _roared_ and although Shiro didn't hear it with his ears, he felt buffeted, deafened by the sound, blown before her like a leaf in a storm, torn adrift from reality, and then from his own conciousness as darkness swelled around him.

When he opened his eyes very little seemed to have changed. He was sitting in the pilot's seat, the view of the castle's hangar exactly the same as it was. There was no sign of Keith.

“Keith?” Shiro's head was aching. There was no reply, and something like hope started to bloom in Shiro's chest. He fought it down. It was too early. Even if Keith had sent him away, there was no guarantee this was the right universe.

He got to his feet and ran out of the Black Lion. All the other Lions were where they should be, silent and inscrutable. The Castle itself seemed quiet. Sleep cycle, maybe.

Shiro moved stealthily, just in case Zarkon had taken the castle as well as the Lions in this universe. It was only when he saw a workbench surrounded by various bits and pieces of electrical equipment that he remembered definitely as Pidge's work that he finally accepted he was home.

His knees threatened to buckle as he put his hand on the table to steady himself, his eyes tearing up with relief and gratitude.

“Thank you, Keith,” he said.

Keith.

He tore his helmet off and took off at a run. He wondered if the elevator had gotten slower since he'd left, practically pacing around in it as it took him from the engineering decks to the residential level. He darted through the living area, and never thought he'd be so happy to see Lance's rather grubby hoodie thrown over the back of a couch.

He'd missed them. He'd missed all of them. His wonderful, brave team.

It had to be somewhere in the sleep cycle; the dining room was empty too, the only sound the food-goo processor gurgling to itself.

The decision as to whose room to go to first was made for him, his feet carrying him to Keith's door, his heart pounding. He raised his hand to knock, changed his mind, and pressed the button to open the door.

He'd only made it two steps into the room when Keith was flying at him, blade gleaming. Shiro raised his prosthetic to block and knocked it aside as Keith's attack crumbled into a wide-eyed sort of stumble.

“Huh?” he said, his voice cracking. He didn't resist at all when Shiro pulled him into a hug.

“I'm sorry I took so long,” he said, and he meant it twice over. He wrapped his arms around Keith and squeezed, and Keith blinked bewilderedly against his chest.

“Am I dreaming again?” he muttered, his arms cautiously winding around Shiro's waist, and Shiro felt his heart crack a little at the admission.

“No. Keith, I'm here, it's real.” He pressed his cheek against Keith's sleep-messed hair. He was wearing a tshirt and boxers and Shiro wanted to be out of his armour, to be rid of the unyielding surface between them, but Keith had started to accept he was really there and his arms were clamped around Shiro like he never intended to let him go. He was shaking slightly.

“Where did you _go_?” Keith asked, pleaded.

Shiro sighed. “It's a very long story. Come on, we'll sit down and I'll tell you.”

They hadn't really been close enough at the garrison to curl up on the same bed, but once or twice they'd ended up sitting on one, just talking, and Shiro hadn't thought much about it at all, the way the hours had flown by, the way he could never tire of Keith's voice, his face.

And now he'd seen what possibilities there were for them, even in a different universe, he wished he'd been more self-aware back then. Or maybe it would have been even harder.

They sat shoulder to shoulder, and Shiro talked. He summarised it as best he could, skipping over the details. He went back to the arena. He won. That's all that mattered, even if Keith's forehead wrinkled in worry and he chewed his bottom lip, but he didn't interrupt.

He didn't say much at all until Shiro had finished, his throat dry from speaking.

“Another me, huh? Raised as galra.” He smiled faintly. “I'm glad he made friends with the other you in the end.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, looking away.

“What's wrong? Shiro?”

He'd missed that look, the warmth and concern with which Keith had never stopped regarding him, and this time it was more than survivor's guilt that squeezed his heart when he saw it. He hadn't decided yet how to talk about Takashi and the other Keith, or even if he should. It was just a guess after all.

He didn't know what kind of expression he was wearing, but something had caught Keith's attention, because even after it should have been awkward he didn't look away, his eyes searching Shiro's face.

“Takashi and him, they, well, I don't know, but I think they were more than friends.”

“Oh.” Keith didn't look away, or even seem all that surprised. “Good,” he said quietly. Then he quickly ducked his head, clearing his throat.

“Keith.”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head up too fast, too close, too hopeful, and Shiro wondered if it had been him all along, getting things wrong.

“Have I been making you wait?”

“As long as I know you're okay, I don't mind waiting,” Keith said. He smiled awkwardly. “I mean, it's fine.”

It wasn't fine. Not any more. It seemed ridiculous it had taken this long for him to see what that look of Keith's really meant. He wanted to apologise again.

He kissed him instead, his heart thudding painfully. He ducked his head down and pressed his lips to Keith's mouth and felt Keith smile against them, reach up to cup his face and kiss him back, gently. They'd known each other for so long, the weight of their shared history bearing down on the moment, holding them in place.

Shiro lost himself, his eyes closed, focusing on the warm fingers pressed to his cheeks, the sound of Keith's breathing. He could stay here forever, he thought.

They jerked apart when the door hissed open.

“Keith are you in here? Allura-” Lance broke off and stared at them. “Ohhh my God,” he said, his eyes widening in shock.

“Lance,” Shiro began.

“You had him in here all along!” Lance said, mock-accusingly. “Oh my God. Guys! I found Shiro!”

Keith chuckled quietly. “Go,” he said, giving Shiro's arm a gentle push. “I'll catch up.” As he stood up Keith caught his hand for a moment and gave it a squeeze. “Welcome back.”

Lance was waiting for him and he could hear footsteps, and he knew it was time to give Keith the privacy to get dressed. So Shiro stepped out to greet his friends, his lips still tingling and his heart as light as a bird.

Somewhere out there, a different Keith and Shiro were going to help save a different galaxy, and just knowing that made Shiro start to believe they could save this one as well.

 


End file.
